His Undercover Lover
by CatChester
Summary: Following Strauss' death, Penelope Garcia turns to her best friend, Derek Morgan for comfort but before either of them can admit that there might be more then just friendship between them, Garcia is called on to go undercover. With Morgan assigned as her husband-slash-protector, how long can these two continue to deny their feelings?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Penelope was staring up at the stars when Derek found her.

"You okay, Baby Girl?"

She turned and offered him a sad smile. "I will be," she assured him.

Derek stepped closer and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to him and as she rested her head on his shoulder, he kissed the top of her head.

The gathering (Penelope couldn't really call it a party) was breaking up now and everyone was saying their goodbyes, sharing final memories of Erin Strauss and calling cabs. The bittersweet evening was over.

"You know, funerals are to say goodbye to someone," Penelope mused, "but I don't feel like I said goodbye. I don't feel a sense of closure."

"No one does; that comes with time."

Penelope sighed and pulled away from Derek. "I didn't even know her that well. I can't even imagine how Rossi-"

Derek knew that Penelope's heart was more easily hurt than the rest of the team and it was one of the things he loved about her; that despite heartache, she had never become at all jaded and as well as facing her own grief at losing a friend, albeit not a close one, she felt pain for everyone else on her team.

"Hush," he said, placing a finger over her lips. "Rossi will be fine, we all will."

Penelope nodded and offered him another sad smile.

"You want to share a cab?" Derek asked, unwilling to let her go while she was still upset.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she admitted.

That was another thing, she wasn't afraid to say how she felt or ask for what she needed.

Derek smiled and pulled her to him again, kissing her forehead. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours."

"Really?"

Penelope nodded. "Your place reminds me of you and you comfort me. I need comfort right now."

Her words healed a tiny bit of his own pain at the loss, just knowing that he meant so much to someone like her made him feel ten feet tall.

"Mine it is, Mama." He looped an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the house. "What do you say we watch some cheesy movies and drown our sorrows in enough margaritas to float a small boat?"

"Sounds good," she said, wrapping an arm about his waist.

The team were all on leave for another day, so getting up for work wasn't an issue. They would be back in the office the day after but on light duty, and not cleared for active duty until they had all been seen by and declared fit by the department shrink.

Penelope never really understood why they made the profilers see a shrink; sure they had issues, like everybody does, but they also knew the right answers to give to fake being healthy. Besides, if the shrink was any good, they would surely be a profiler, right? It was like asking a student to evaluate the knowledge of their teacher.

Still, it would probably be another week before they could be back at work full time. She never understood why, at the time when most people arguably needed the most distraction, they were always given time off? And that wasn't just at the FBI; it was like you were abnormal and not grieving properly if you didn't take time off work. Penelope found that distraction was an excellent coping mechanism for any kind of heartache and the deeper the pain, the more work became a necessity. She knew Morgan felt the same way.

* * *

Derek opened the door and Penelope followed him inside, pausing in the hallway to look around and drink in his apartment.

While not exactly austere, his place was clean and uncluttered and despite using what she might term dull, earthy colours, it gave the place an understated and surprisingly warm look. Everything about this place screamed Derek Morgan and in times of trouble, Penelope liked being here, where not only was she with her best friend, she felt surrounded by him too.

"I'll make the first pitcher," he said. "You pick out a movie."

Penelope kicked off her shoes and headed for his DVD rack. He had surprisingly eclectic tastes in movies and almost everything, from documentaries to bad B movies was represented here. She picked Alien Women from Mars, which had a suitably melodramatic cover and surprisingly funny script for such a low budget film, although granted, much of that humour was unintentional.

She had just loaded it into the DVD player, when Derek returned with a jug of margarita in one hand, and two glasses in the other.

He had removed his jacket and she paused for a moment to admire him. She wasn't joking when she called him Hot Stuff and indeed, he was a frequent star of some of her racier daydreams.

He sat on the edge of the sofa as he poured two glasses, then sat back in the corner with his left arm stretched out along the back, an invitation to her.

She didn't need asking once, let alone twice, and she picked up her glass and snuggled into his side, as his arm went around her shoulders.

He picked up the remote and pressed play.

They were both silent to begin with, each more lost in their own thoughts that in the movie's plot. Neither were laughing like they had last time they watched this, but it did make them smile from time to time.

As she finished her second glass, Pen sighed. "You know, it's at times like this that I miss Kevin."

"You do?" Derek had never thought him equal to Penelope and wasn't at all upset when she said 'no' to marrying him.

"Well, maybe I miss the idea of him more than him, you know?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"It's just… having someone, someone who is always there for you; it's comforting."

"I'll always be here for you, Baby Girl, you just call and I'll come running."

"I know," she answered and patted his hand, but he could tell that she didn't really mean it. He felt a little hurt but he knew that grief could do strange things to a person, so he didn't ask for clarification, lest he spoil their beautiful friendship. Deep down, he knew that she would always be here for him too, and that was more than enough to negate any hurt her insincere words might have caused.

He kissed the top of her head.

They were silent for a few moments, until Penelope spoke again.

"Kevin wasn't very good at handling grief," she finally said.

Knowing that she was a little loaded, after wine at dinner and now his potent margaritas, although he was curious to know what she meant, he didn't press her for information. He didn't want her to feel bad about what she had revealed in the morning and if he pushed for more, she could even blame him. Besides, he didn't want to hear about her and Lynch.

"Oh?" was as much as he could bring himself to ask.

"Kevin was sweet and all but he wasn't like us, he's never really experienced any hardships. When we thought Emily had died, he was there for me and everything but it made me uncomfortable, you know?"

"Not really."

"Like I couldn't cry in front of him because it would upset him."

Although she couldn't see him, Derek nodded. "You were always the grownup in that relationship," he said carefully.

She nodded her head slowly.

"It shouldn't be like that though, should it? It should be two grownups, who can take turns supporting each other."

"That's the ideal," he agreed. Garcia sat up and placed her empty glass on the coffee table then as she sat back, slipped one arm behind his back and lay sideways, so her cheek was resting against his chest.

Derek smiled slightly and gently rubbed her back.

By the time the film ended, he knew she was asleep. He considered waking her but to be honest, he was getting as much comfort from her presence as he was giving. Besides, his couch was comfortable and spending a night here was no hardship. He kissed the top of her head.

"G'night, baby doll, sweet dreams," he murmured. She moved slightly and might have spoken but if so, it was too low for him to hear.

Smiling, he leaned his head back against the cushions and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Penelope awoke, it took her a moment to realise where she was, but when she realised that the odd black pillow under her cheek was in fact Derek's shirt, she smiled. He had slept on the sofa so as not to wake her, which she thought was exceedingly sweet of him.

Most people wouldn't call Derek sweet. Charming, smooth and debonair maybe, but not sweet. Penelope knew him better than most however.

She had never had a better friend than him and he was truly precious to her.

She relaxed back against him, content to cuddle him for a while longer, and a tiny bit afraid that she might wake him if she moved.

Kevin wouldn't have done that. He would have awoken her, insisting that she would sleep better in a bed but in reality, _he_ was the one who found it difficult to sleep anywhere but his own bed.

She had been thinking of Kevin a lot lately but deep down, she knew that it wasn't Kevin that she missed, it was what he represented to her. Commitment. Someone who would always be there for her.

Of course, he had offered her commitment, marriage in fact, and she had said no. She hated having to hurt him but she knew he wasn't 'The One'.

Being with The One would feel a lot like being with Derek, effortless.

She hadn't had to tell Derek how to treat her, to school him on what was and was not acceptable behaviour towards a woman. Derek knew what her boundaries were and thought nothing of wrapping his arm around her while in public. She liked that intimacy, she was a sensual kind of person and needed to touch those that she loved. Kevin on the other hand, didn't like public displays of affection and at most, would hold her hand in public and occasionally, give her a peck on the lips.

Which is not to say that Penelope and Derek never argued, they did, and sometimes they hurt each other but they were always ready to forgive. They both understood that in stressful situations, harsh words could be spoken but were rarely meant.

Kevin held grudges.

It was supposed to be a female trait, to remember every slight and bring them up in future arguments but Penelope didn't know any women like that. That was what Kevin did however, and a disagreement about the pros and cons of newest version of Firefox, could soon turn into her defending comments made six months ago, that she couldn't even remember. It had been a tiring way to live.

He wasn't all bad, of course, far from it.

Unlike Derek, Kevin was someone who would be described as sweet. He went out of his way to bring her things that would make her smile; sometimes it was a flower, sometimes a new computer program. Then he would bounce on the balls of his feet as she opened what he had given her, eager to please her and see her smile, like a big kid on Christmas morning.

And that was the problem really, he _was_ a big kid. As sweet, kind, loving and thoughtful as Kevin was, he wasn't her equal.

If only she could find someone like Derek, but who also shared her love of computing, that would he her ideal man. She could marry a man like that and not worry about labels. And that was assuming that he even wanted marriage, he might well feel like she did, content and secure in the relationship they had, without meaningless pieces of paper to prove some imaginary commitment. And marriage _was_ just an imaginary commitment; the divorce rates proved that.

She felt Derek move below her and he raised a hand to rub at his eyes.

"Morning, Hot Stuff," she said, raising her head to look at him.

Unlike her, he didn't need to remember where he was, and smiled without opening his eyes.

"G'morning Princess. Sleep well?"

"Like a hibernating bear," she assured him.

Morgan finally raised his head and looked at her.

"A mamma bear," he added, thinking the analogy was fitting for someone who was so protective of her 'cubs'.

She went to get up, so he tightened the arm he had around her for a moment, before releasing her. He then sat forward and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sore?" she asked, looking guilty.

"It's nothing," he assured her, heading to the kitchen. "You can take the bathroom first, there's a new toothbrush under the sink."

"Thanks," she said.

She looked in the bathroom mirror to see that she looked rather like a panda, her eyeliner and mascara having created black smudges around her eyes. With no makeup to repair her face, she hesitated, before opting to wash it clean. She liked to look her best around Derek (she has to try and keep up with his model-good-looks, after all) but sometimes she had to accept that she was fighting a losing battle.

Besides, if she had to do the walk of shame, at least only her clothes would look dishevelled.

Feeling better now that she had minty fresh breath and a quick wash, she went out to find Derek had brewed a pot of coffee and poured her a cup as she entered, adding just the right amount of sugar and milk before he presented it to her.

"All I can offer you is toast as I haven't had a chance to go shopping," he admitted. He rarely kept much fresh food in the house, as he never knew when he'd be jetting off somewhere, chasing an unsub. He tended to shop on his way home for his evening meal and the next day's breakfast but with the funeral yesterday, he hadn't found a chance.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I should be getting home anyway."

"You sure?" he asked looking concerned. "I was going to suggest we went out to breakfast."

"Oh no, I'm sure you have plans, I wouldn't want to intrude."

Derek laughed. "If I didn't want you around, you'd know it," he assured her.

"Okay, I'd like that, then."

"Great. I've got softball practice this afternoon, but you're welcome to come and cheer me on."

"Thanks, but I need to go home and change at some point."

"I thought we could swing by and collect some of your stuff after breakfast."

"Oh." Staying more than one night hadn't occurred to her, although it was tempting. "Thanks, Hot Stuff, but I can't keep imposing on you."

"Don't be silly. Besides, you know how crazy I get when we're on restricted duty; I need someone to keep me on the straight and narrow."

"And someone to bitch about the shrink to."

"That too," he agreed, with an easy smile, but it soon faded. "Besides, I like having you here. And I have a fast internet connection now, so you can't even complain that you can't play your games while here."

She remembered the last time she had stayed with him, and she had indeed been very vocal about how slow his connection speed was. The idea that he had upgraded it just in case she stayed again, made her feel smug.

"You did that for me?" she asked.

"Please," he scoffed. "I wouldn't know ADSL from LSD, what do I need with fast internet?"

That wasn't quite true, he was reasonably tech savvy (for a civilian) but his scoffing at the idea that he would have upgraded for anyone other than her, made her feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Then thank you, my chocolate god, I accept your offer."

He grinned. "I'll take a quick shower, then we'll go."

* * *

Penelope received some envious looks as she strolled into Pat's Diner with Derek and while that was nothing new, she didn't normally look as rumpled as she did today. They assumed, incorrectly, that she had slept with him. Well, technically, she supposed she had.

"What's that grin for?" Morgan asked her as the waitress left.

"She thinks we slept together," Penelope explained. "And she's jealous."

"What are you-"

Penelope gestured to herself. "Look at me; a scrubbed clean face, brushed out hair and rumpled clothes, she thinks I'm doing the walk of shame, Gorgeous."

Derek smiled. "And she's jealous of you?"

"Who wouldn't be, my Chocolate God of Thunder."

"Okay, that's it, no more Avengers' movies for you."

"You would deny me my eye candy?" she looked shocked but he knew she was only teasing.

"I'm all the eye candy you need, Baby Doll."

"Yeah, but you're a big old tease. I need me some eye candy that wants to do more than hold my hand."

"And Chris Hemsworth is that man?" he teased.

"I'd settle for Robert Downey Jr," she shrugged. "I'm not picky."

"Don't I know it," he said under his breath, although she heard.

"Oh, this from the man who's only criteria for dating is 'hot and leggy'?" There was a slight edge to her words but she did her best to sound teasing.

"So I'm shallow? Don't tell me this is news?"

"You aren't shallow and you know it," she chided him.

The waitress brought their coffee and this time she managed to catch Derek's eye. She was just his type, young, beautiful and with legs up to her neck.

Penelope focused on fixing her coffee so that she didn't have to look at his ogling.

"What can I getcha?" she asked, bestowing a dazzling smile on Derek.

"I'll have the big breakfast," he said. Not a very original title but it was fitting.

"Me too," Garcia added.

Derek saw the waitress, her name tag declared her to be Annie, give Garcia a disdainful look, but Penelope was too busy preparing her coffee to notice. Still, no one looked at his Baby Girl like that.

"You want a side of waffles with that, Beautiful?"

"Oh, no, I shouldn't."

"You know you love the waffles here," he said in his most seductive voice and he could see that she was tempted. "And they have grade A maple syrup."

"All right, fine, but you have to help me."

"Whatever you say, Sweetness." He was laying it on a little thick, but not so thickly that Penelope would notice anything out of the ordinary and if she did, she would just think that he was teasing the waitress. He turned to the server. "Did you get that?" he asked, slightly pointedly.

"Sure, one side of waffles. Be right back." Annie wasn't nearly so enthusiastic now.

"You shouldn't make her think we're dating," Garcia chided once the waitress was out of earshot.

"Why not?"

"One, because we're not and two, isn't she your type?"

He was getting a little tired of her quips that he was easy. "No, Garcia she's not."

"All right, no need to get snippy; I'm sorry."

"Thank you." It wasn't quite as gracious as he might like.

"Friends?" Penelope asked, raising her coffee cup.

It was such a 'Garcia' thing to do that he couldn't stay mad at her, and as he raised his cup to 'toast' her, he smiled.

"Friends," he agreed.

"So, who are you playing softball with later?"

"The FBI team, but who comes to the practices varies."

Garcia nodded. She was lucky that she had a desk job; many of the agents were called away at a moment's notice. Well, maybe a day's notice. The few times she had travelled with the team had been interesting, even fun at times, but she wouldn't like to work that way permanently; she was a homebody at heart.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"What?" she looked up. "Oh, no, I was just daydreaming, that's all."

"About anything interesting?" he asked.

"I was thinking about all the travelling you guys do, actually. How hard it must be to maintain a normal life, like attending softball practices."

Morgan shrugged. "Be easier if I had someone at home, I suppose, to keep the cupboards stocked, but it has to be the right someone."

"Might be easier to get a housekeeper,"

Derek laughed. "That it might."

They chatted while they ate and when the waitress left the check on their table, Derek insisted on paying.

"You trying to be my sugar daddy?" Penelope teased, once he had won the argument.

"Sure, Baby Doll, just tell me where to apply." He slipped his sunglasses on and as she slid out of the booth, Morgan draped an arm around her shoulders, which wasn't unusual behaviour for them but as they went out of the door, Derek looked back at the waitress and lowered his glasses, giving her a pointed look.

He didn't know exactly why he had taken her distain so hard; Penelope hadn't even noticed and even if she had, she was self-confident enough to brush off such petty opinions.

To him, Penelope _was_ beautiful. She thought that she wasn't his type but the truth was, he didn't have a type, not physically at least. Black, white, blonde, brunette, tall or short, the only thing that his women had in common was their confidence.

If only Garcia would realise that.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thanks for all your comments, this story has really sparked some interest! Sorry that I don't have time to reply to everyone personally but I'm an introvert at the best of times and after fighting with Windows 8 for hours, I'm feeling kind of wrung out. Besides, an update is better than a reply, right?

Sorry if I missed a few errors on my final check but I'll try and give it another readthrough soon, and catch them when my brain is functioning again.

Anyway, enjoy! And I promise that the plot is coming soon, the next chapter to be exact.

**Chapter Two**

At her home, Garcia took a quick shower but before she could apply fresh makeup, Morgan called through from the living room.

"Hey, Garcia, you got any sweats?"

"Sure I do, they just don't suit me. Why?"

"I was thinking, why don't you practice with us today?"

"Thanks, but sports aren't really my thing."

"I know; they aren't Reid's either but he enjoyed it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Come on." He made his way to her doorway and, pushing the beaded curtain out of the way, leaned against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest. "It'll do you good to try something new."

"No, it'll get me hot and sweaty," she said, clinching her bathrobe tighter around her as she turned to him. He could see that's he had a small case open on the bed, which she was filling with clothes.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he said with a smirk. Yes, in certain circumstances, a hot and sweaty Garcia would be very appealing.

"Look, Sugar, you bat, I'll cheer, that's how we roll."

"Fine," he held his hands up in surrender. "Just thought I'd offer."

For some reason, the idea of standing behind her while he taught her how to hold the bad had been appealing. Still, he could always try and interest her in a game of pool, that had definite possibilities too.

"Am I taking too long?" she asked, looking up from the case.

He realised that he hadn't moved for a few minutes, lost in his inappropriate thoughts.

"Take all the time you need, I'm fine." He went back into the living room and picked up the magazine he had been looking through. It was one of her tech ones but since she had moved to digital content years ago, this one was from April 2005.

When Garcia emerged, she was back to looking like her usual, beautiful self. She was wearing a white summer dress with large, pink and yellow flowers, a hot pink bolero and pink heels.

She grinned at him, then pulled on a pink baseball cap over her curls and he laughed.

"Only you would have a colour coordinated cap."

She twirled like a fashion model.

"You look good, Momma."

"Why thank you."

He went into the bedroom to get her suitcase for her and as he came out, she was loading two laptops into a bag, which she slung over her shoulder. She held her hand out, waiting for his elbow, which he duly provided once he had taken the laptop case from her, then they left the apartment.

* * *

They quickly fell into an easy routine. Derek was always up first and worked out. After a half a dozen or so trips past his home gym him to ogle, Penelope made them breakfast, something different every day.

They shared a ride to the office, taking it in turns, and then worked separately for most of the day. Morgan spent his time catching up on paperwork and writing profiles for police forces, cases where the killer hadn't been prolific enough people to warrant a visit from the team, or where the authorities hadn't given them jurisdiction. Garcia called them 'Mini Profiles' which was far from acurate but he too thought of them that way now. Penelope used the lack of cases to complete a few programming project that had been on the back burner.

They rode home together each evening and while Derek went for a run, Penelope logged onto her computers and indulged in a few hours of gaming or chat, in her online communities. They took it in turns to cook dinner, then watched a little TV or a movie, before turning in.

Derek liked having her live with him, it felt comfortable and easy, but she never cramped his style, nor he hers. Thankfully, they were both pretty easy going, not taking offence easily and their disagreements were generally playful, and about nothing more serious that how to make the perfect marinara sauce or which was better, Jon Stewart's Daily Show or the Colbert Report.

Thankfully, both Morgan and Garcia only needed one appointment with the psychologist before they were declared fit but Rossi, who had been in a relationship with Strauss and Hotchner, who had been with her when she died, needed three sessions, meaning that the team was on reduced duties for three weeks.

* * *

For once, Penelope wasn't first in the queue to see the psychiatrist, that honour now fell to Alex _B_lake. She was second though, which is how she found herself sitting on a couch, facing a man who looked like he hadn't smiled in decades, worried that she would give him the wrong answers.

He began easily enough, asking how she had been since their last meeting but he never seemed very interested in her answers, which made the normally bubbly analyst, feel subdued and nervous.

Slowly he worked his way to what he really wanted to know, about her last case and how she felt about that.

"And losing Strauss, how does that make you feel?"

"I don't know, upset?"

"Why upset?"

"Because she's dead."

"And you were her friend?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean…" She paused and took a deep breath, just as Derek had told her. "We weren't friends, we weren't even friendly really, but she's still a person and what happened to her was really awful."

"And what about the team?"

"What about them?"

"Some of them were closer to Strauss than you were, is your upset caused by their grief?"

"I don't know." She wondered if it might be a trick question and decided to ponder for a moment before answering. "I don't like seeing the people that I care about in pain."

"No one does."

They sat in awkward silence for a while, Penelope wondering if she needed to say something more.

"So tell me, how is Agent Morgan handling the loss?"

"Derek?" she had expected that he would ask about Rossi before Morgan. "I, uh, I don't know. He isn't happy, obviously, but he's coping. And he's been a real comfort to me."

"How so?"

"He invited me to stay with him for a few days, which was really nice of him."

"And are you getting on well, living in such confided quarters."

"Oh, we're not confined." Penelope smiled. "We're not together most of the time when we're at work and when we get home, I usually spend a couple of hours on the computer, then we share a meal and watch some TV."

"Home?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You called Agent Morgan's place 'home'."

"Did I? Slip of the tongue."

"So you two aren't seeing each other then?"

"God no. Like I told you last time, we're just friends. Derek is my best friend."

"Have you ever considered progressing the relationship?"

"Never," she answered, just a tad too quickly. The shrink raised a sceptical eyebrow. "He's my best friend and I would never risk that, not for anything."

"How do you know you couldn't improve on what you already have with him?"

"I don't but he's too important to me. Besides, I'm not his type."

"So what does staying with Derek give you that you can't get alone?"

"Being around him makes me feel safe."

"Did Strauss' death make you feel unsafe?"

"What? No, it's… it's like when you're a kid and you're afraid of the monster under the bed, and your Dad comes in and checks under the bed and in the wardrobe and cupboards. Derek is that man for me; he checks my metaphorical cupboards."

"Did you believe in monsters as a child?"

"I don't think so," Penelope wondered what agreeing would tell the psychologist. Still, she was a terrible liar so it was best to be honest. "I wasn't a real fan of the dark, especially after I'd watched a scary movie but monsters? I don't think so."

"When did you grow out of that fear?"

"Is this really relevant?"

"This isn't a test, Penelope, just an evaluation. There are no trick questions."

"You would say that."

"Why?"

"It's like asking someone if they're lying. If they told you the truth, they'll say 'no' but if they lied, they're not likely to admit that they lied so either way, they say 'no',"

"So when I ask you if you have romantic feelings for Agent Morgan?"

Penelope realised that she had been hoist by her own petard. Even if she denied it, she wouldn't be able to change his mind.

"No. I love him but like a brother." It was mostly true, she did love him but she didn't exactly have fantasies about her step-brother, while she most certainly did for Derek. Sometimes. Just occasionally.

* * *

Two days later, it was Derek's turn.

He knew that he had nothing to worry about with his psychological evaluation; he was sorry for what had happened to Erin Strass but he knew that he neither felt guilty, nor cared enough about her for his performance to be affected.

The shrink asked the usual questions and Derek answered honestly since he had nothing to hide, that was, until he asked about Garcia.

"I understand that Penelope Garcia is staying with you for a while?"

"She is." He confirmed, refusing to say more, despite the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"How is that going?" the psychologist asked.

"Fine."

"No feelings one way or the other?"

"It's nice having company, I guess."

"You two don't fight?"

"Sure we do, sometimes; all friends do."

"So no arguments over who has first use of the bathroom?"

"I have an en-suite, she uses the master bath."

The shrink gave him a long, hard look, asking why he was so protective of this relationship. Finally, Derek sighed and decided to capitulate.

"She's a friend okay, a good friend, and I like having her around."

"So you haven't ever considered taking things further?"

"I've thought about it."

"But not acted on it?"

"She's been in a relationship for years."

"Not for the past year. Nor when she joined your team."

"We didn't know each other that well back then and since she and Lynch broke up, I just… I don't want to be _that_ guy."

"The rebound guy?"

"The guy who swoops in when she's lonely."

"You don't want to take advantage of her."

"I guess. Besides, it's a moot point, I'm not her type," Derek admitted.

"She behaves flirtatiously towards you."

"That's just her way, she's playful."

"Okay, so what is her type?"

"I don't know." Derek shrugged. "Intelligent, I guess."

"You aren't exactly dumb."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then explain it to me."

Derek sighed and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. "I've got street smarts, gut instincts, that kind of thing. She's pure science. I used to hear her on the phone with Lynch sometimes, I only understood about half of the tech talk they shared but I swear, it was like phone sex to them."

"So someone like Kevin Lynch is her type?"

"Yeah."

"Yet she refused to marry him, didn't she?"

"Garcia just doesn't like labels… or change."

"You believe that?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"So you haven't asked her out because you don't think you're her type?"

"That, and relationships are frowned upon."

"But not against the rules. After all, Penelope is a Technical Analyst, not an agent and while you are on the same team, you two don't actually work together."

"You sound like you're trying to talk me into this." Derek turned the tables.

"Not at all, although I am confused why two people who clearly care as deeply for each other as you and Penelope do, don't want to progress things. I might almost think you were afraid."

"Afraid?" Derek smiled at the idea. As much as he loved Garcia, she wasn't frightening. The only reason he didn't like it when she was mad at him, was because she wouldn't speak to him until he redeemed himself.

"Afraid that if things don't work out, you'll lose her."

That thought sobered Derek up quickly, and he had to admit that the other man had a point.

"I don't know what to tell you, all I know is, I can't lose her."

"And what if she is 'the one'? It only has to happen once, Agent Morgan."

* * *

When Derek left his appointment, it was lunchtime and he headed for the break room, the psychologist's words still fresh in his mind. He was a little late, so Penelope was already there, sitting with a tech whose name Derek didn't know, helping him with something. She waved when she saw him and he smiled back, making his way to the coffee machine before joining them.

He brought a second cup to the table for her, made as she liked it and she grinned at him as he sat down.

"Thanks, Baby. Oh, this is Jeremy, he's just moved here from the L.A. office. Jer, this is my own personal hero, Derek Morgan."

Derek nodded at the other man.

"Jer tried to improve upon my facial recognition program but it's got some bugs, so we're going over his code."

"Hey, my software never has bugs. It just develops random features," Jeremy said.

"Sure it does." Penelope smiled and went back to checking the printouts. "Don't worry, I'll find the conflict, even if it kills me."

Derek felt a little like a third wheel as they both hunched over the printouts, but leaving now would be rude.

"Can't you do this on the clock? Derek asked. "They don't pay us enough to work throughout lunch hours."

"Yeah," Penelope smiled, although she didn't look up. "Says the man who puts in 16 hour days. Ah ha!" She ringed something on the page in red and passed it back to 'Jer'. "There's your problem."

He looked over the printout and groaned. "Oh God, I'm such an idiot. I should have spotted that conflict."

"Nobody's perfect," she assured him.

"Yeah, but you know what they say; if Ruby is not and Perl is the answer, you don't understand the question."

"A-men, Jer, ain't that the truth," Penelope laughed.

Although the words meant little to Derek, he was sure that 'Jer' was flirting with Penelope.

Derek was giving Jeremy a penetrating stare, not exactly unfriendly but enough to make the guy uncomfortable. Penelope was gathering the papers and couldn't see what he was up to, or he wouldn't be doing it. She didn't like it when he intimidated her friends, much less her boyfriends.

"Anyway, thanks Penelope. I should be going, put this into action."

"You sure?" Penelope looked upset that he was leaving but Jeremy was already collecting his things up.

"Yeah, thanks, Pen, I'll see you later."

"Okay, bye, Jer." She sounded a little confused.

He left but the idea formulating in Derek's mind, about possibly asking her out, was quickly diminishing. He couldn't even understand Jer's joke, let alone make her laugh like that.

"Earth to Derek, come in, Derek."

He looked and realised that he must have missed something Garcia had said.

"Sorry, Doll, what was that?"

"I asked 'what's up?'. You looked like you had the weight of the world on your, admittedly very muscular, shoulders."

"Nothing." He knew that wouldn't satisfy her thought. "I just got finished with the shrink, that's all."

"Was it bad?" she asked.

"Not as bad as it could have been. You, uh, you wanna do something tonight?"

"Well that depends on the 'something'; if we're talking contact sports, you're on your own, if we're talking male strip club, I'm in."

"And what do I get out of that?" he asked, charmed by her teasing.

"You're the entertainment, Hot Stuff."

"In your dreams, Garcia." He smiled. If only he could read something more into her flirting.

"But of course, my little stud muffin, why do you think I hang around while you workout? I'm getting material for my fantasies."

Morgan laughed. It was probably best that she hadn't taken him at his word and thought he was asking her on a date, because if they ever split up, he couldn't afford to lose her. She was like sunshine to him; perhaps not strictly necessary to his survival but essential for his peace of mind.

"So, what did you have in mind for tonight?" she asked.

"I don't know, a few rounds at the bar?"

"So I can watch you dance all night?"

He wondered if the slight edge in her voice was wishful thinking on his part.

"More fuel for your fantasies," he teased.

"Yeah, I got plenty already, thanks."

"Okay, how about a movie then?" Something scary, so she'd lean in for protection and he could drape his arm around her shoulders, then cling to his arm while they walked back to the car.

"Or we could pick up a movie, then I can have you all to myself."

Derek smiled and nodded. "Sounds like a plan, sweetheart."

* * *

As a team, they were cleared to return to full duties two weeks and four days weeks after they returned to work.

Everyone was still worried about Rossi, although he was also keen to get back to work. Most of them respected that distraction was his chosen way of dealing with his grief and they respected his choice, although they kept a friendly eye on him.

The morning that Rossi was officially cleared, that same afternoon saw their first case taking them to Nevada, where a spate of missing gay men had them strongly suspecting a serial killer, although as yet, no bodies had been recovered.

Garcia had presented the case and as the others headed off to make arrangements, such as asking neighbours to water their plants or feed their cat, Morgan hung back.

When his dog, Clooney, had died of old age, he hadn't got a new dog because he was away so often, but he did have a house guest to worry about.

"Don't worry, Sweet Cheeks, I'll clear out my things on my way home tonight." That had been their agreement, after all, that she would leave when the team was back on full duties. And besides, although he hadn't said anything, she was worried about wearing out her welcome.

"Actually, I was going to suggest that you stay," he said. Garcia looked surprised and he worried that he'd made her uncomfortable. "It's not like I'll be there, and it'll make it easier for you to water the plants; won't take you out of your way after a long day."

While she didn't want to overstay her welcome, she had liked being there and with Derek gone, returning to her apartment would feel even more lonely.

"Okay, if you really don't mind."

"I don't." He grinned. "But don't you dare go through my underwear drawer, woman."

"Eww, Morgan, that's gross."

She threw her pen at him but he easily ducked it and left the room before she could throw anything else at him, calling a cheerful goodbye.

* * *

It took six days to solve the case and everyone had remarked how relaxed Morgan seemed. They all knew that Penelope was staying with him and had queried if that was why he seemed so stress-free, but he had brushed such claims aside, saying that he had just needed to cut back on work for a little while.

Still, he had made a decision while he was away, and that was to ask Penelope to move in with him, just as roommates. He had a whole host of arguments to convince her, from saving money on rent and travelling expenses, to enjoying her company but the real reason was, that he liked having her around.

He had wondered if perhaps it was time for him to settle down and start a family. He'd been feeling restless in recent months and wondered if perhaps he was suffering from a male version of a biological clock.

Living with Penelope would probably make hooking up a little harder, but he could always go to their place.

Anyway, he was tired of casual hook-ups but the trouble was, his job just didn't lend itself to long term relationships. Living with his best friend was probably the closest that he could come to a stable relationship, unless he wanted a career change, so for now it would do.

He wouldn't stand in Penelope's way either and if she wanted to date this 'Jer' guy, he would give her his blessing and promise not to make things awkward for them. That was going to be a hard sell but he was determined to try.

The plane landed a little after nine P.M. and he was looking forward to sharing a late dinner with his Baby Girl; she had promised to have a delicious dinner waiting for him when they spoke earlier. He even stopped on the way home to pick up a bottle of wine, red Chianti, her favourite.

They'd spoken every night while he was away, long conversations, not their usual work calls. To begin with, it was under the teasing pretext of making sure that she hadn't killed his plants. She didn't seem to mind the pretext or the chats and by the third night, she was answering his phone with the same kind of outlandish greetings that she used at work.

Last night, when she had answered with "Talk dirty to me," he had been seriously tempted to take her up on the offer.

The lights were burning as he got home and he smiled as he opened the door.

"Hi, Honey, I'm home," he called playfully but despite the lights being on and a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen, no one answered. "Baby Girl?"

He dropped his bags in the hall and went into the kitchen, where the hob contained a pot on very low heat. The table was set for one and a note sat, propped up against a condensation covered beer bottle.

He didn't need to read the note to know that she had gone, but he picked it up and unfolded it anyway.

_I thought you'd probably enjoy a night of solitude after such a hard week, but I thank you for having me. Don't worry, no plants died on my watch and the casserole just needs warming through._

_Enjoy, my Beautiful Boy,_

_Lots of love,_

_Baby Girl_

Derek opened the beer bottle, which as still cold, and downed half of it in one go as his idea of getting her to share with him, shattered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The phone rang and Garcia barely paused in typing to press the button.

"Talk to me," she said.

"What, no sas?"

"I'm kinda busy, Derek, what do you need?" She tried not to snap but she was taking this case a little personally.

She could almost hear the wheels in his head turning, as he decided whether to get down to business or ask her more about what was bothering her. Knowing him, he could probably guess. Sometimes, she hated profilers.

"What are you up to?"

"Trying to find a link between our victims and not to sound blunt here, but I'm on a clock. What can I do you for?"

"I need you to check for sex crimes against similar victims in the New York area in the past fifteen years."

"That could be a long list, can you narrow it down." She still hadn't stopped typing.

"Reid is sending you the victimology and I want you to search by victim, not by crime."

"Does that include things other than sex crimes?"

"No, but include lesser sex offences, such as peeping toms and flashers."

"Got ya. I'll send you the details as soon as I can." She hung up before he could say goodbye.

* * *

"Come on, Garcia, there must be something."

"No, there is nothing these women have in common, Sir, a few coincidences but-."

"What kind of coincidence?" he demanded.

"Uh, well, they all had boyfriends or were married, but they all met them in different places and they had been together for between two weeks and five years. Kelly and Alice were both in book clubs but different ones. Janice, Kelly and Sabrina all ate at Smiths Bistro in the past year, but months apart and I can find no trace that Alice or Beth ever did-"

"Did you check their partner's credit card receipts?"

"Partners, parents, siblings and where known, friends. Nothing. I even emailed photos of the other victims to the owner and manager, but they didn't recognise them.

"What else have you got?"

"Sabrina and Kelly were both gym members and Beth taught a salsa class at a local community center. Three had blogger accounts, Sabrina had a dating blog, Alice, a bakery blog and Janice had a personal blog but it hasn't been updated since 2011. Kelly, Beth, Alice and Sabrina all used in the past year but for different items' Kelly and Beth bought kindle and paperback books as well as ordering from different sellers, but Sabrina only bought two paperbacks direct from Amazon, and Alice bought only bought a pair of sneakers from a different seller. Like I said, coincidences but nothing that they all have in common."

"Keep looking," Hotch ordered, then hung up.

Penelope sighed. She knew this was an important case but did they have to lose the basic good manners that made life bearable, like hello and goodbye? Thank you? Sorry I snapped at you?

Didn't they realise that she was doing everything that she could already? What did they want from her, blood?

She sat back and stared at all the data on her screens for a moment, hoping that something would occur to her.

* * *

"Reid," Hotchner said as he entered the room. "Did you go through the cases that Garcia sent over?"

"I did, but there's nothing here." Spencer answered.

"If the unsub holds true, we only have hours left to find this girl, if that." Hotchner reminded them.

"Has Garcia been able to find any point of commonality for these victims?" Morgan asked.

"Nothing. I think we have to assume that these victims are random." Aaron sighed. "We're getting nowhere fast."

"But the victims come from all different walks of life, neighbourhoods, social classes, what kind of unsub mixes with this many different people?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know. We're missing something."

"Hotch, we have to do something. Beth is likely already dead and our unsub will be on the prowl for a new victim in the next few days," Morgan snapped.

"I know!" Hotch snapped back. He took a deep breath then answered calmly. "I know."

Morgan took a deep breath too and turned away to face the window, knowing that arguing amongst themselves wouldn't do any good.

"I think maybe it's time for a different tactic," Rossi interjected once tempers had cooled.

"What did you have in mind?" Hotch asked.

"These women, their interests and habits, they're similar even although there is no exact crossover in their lives. I think that perhaps we need to consider using a decoy, send them to all the places that these girls do have in common and see what sort of reactions they get."

Reid was watching Morgan and noticed that from the moment Rossi had said "decoy" the man had frozen in place. Reid had a good idea why too.

"There's no guarantee of that working," Hotch played devil's advocate. "These women have nothing in common-"

"Except physical type," Reid added.

"What if it doesn't work?" JJ asked.

"We have to do something," Rossi added. "Right now, we're just waiting around. Waiting for Beth's body to turn up, waiting for another victim to be taken. Doing something has to be better than doing nothing."

Morgan finally turned around, his face like thunder. "Not that."

"Morgan-" Aaron tried to reason with him.

"No, Hotch. It's not going to happen, got it?"

"Morgan-" Rossi leaned forward, ready to try and coax him around but Derek just glared at him.

"NO!" he stormed from the room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

JJ raised her eyebrows and shared a look with Reid, while Rossi and Hotch shared a worried look.

"Should we go after him?" Reid asked.

"I'll go," Alex offered. "But let's give him a moment to cool off first, okay?"

* * *

Derek was having a hard time not hitting something so he headed for the station gym, where he could safely work off some steam. He had been working at full tilt for an hour, when Alex Blake came in.

Derek ignored her and continued punching the bag.

"You know that Rossi is right," she said.

Derek kept hitting the bag.

"How would you feel if we did nothing and another girl was taken. Can you live with that guilt?"  
Derek finally stopped punching and looked at her.

"A lot easier than I could live with the guilt of getting Penelope killed."

"She won't be killed, Derek, you'll be with her every step of the way."

He made his way over to the bench and picked up a towel and water bottle he'd left there. While he drank and towelled himself off, Alex stepped closer.

"We would basically set you up as a cohabiting couple. You'd be with her whenever possible, while we'll have her wired whenever she isn't."

"There has to be someone else," Derek begged. "Anyone else."

"Not with the training, credentials and the right look, within the correct age range."

"And what does she say?" Derek demanded. His temper was definitely cooling off a little.

"We haven't asked."

Derek gave her a hard look. "Why not?"

"One, because we knew you wouldn't like it and two, because we think you have the best chance of convincing her to help."

"So let me get this straight. First, you want to use Penelope as bait for this killer, then you want me to be the one to talk her into risking her life? You people are unbelievable."

He threw the towel over his shoulder and headed towards the showers.

"You know she'll say yes, Morgan, whether you ask her or we do. We were hoping that by having you talk to her, you could reassure her better than any of us could. She trusts you."

"She trusts all of you too."

"Not in the same way, and you know it." Alex smiled slightly.

"She's not an idiot, the idea of us asking her this must have occurred to her."

"Probably," Alex agreed. "We've all noticed that she's taking this case more personally than most."

"You think that means she'll help us?" he asked.

"I do."

"But you're still sending me. You know that for all her skills, Garcia isn't equipped to handle this and since she isn't an idiot, she'll be terrified."

"I know that," Alex nodded, "but honestly, we don't intend to use her as bait."

"Really?" he sounded sceptical.

"I'm not going to lie, to either of you, she will be in danger but what we want to do is put a camera on you and her, watch the people around you, how they react."

"Your chances of finding the unsub that way are slim to none."

"We know. Rossi, Hotch and I will still be investigating but JJ and Reid, as well as you, will be monitoring everyone she comes into contact with. The fact is, these girls must have something in common, if we can watch someone who is essentially living their lives, it might give us better insight."

"I'll do it, Alex, but I am not leaving her side."

"I wouldn't expect you to. We have a car waiting to take you to the airport. It's only an hour long flight, so you can both be back here by nightfall and settling into your personas."

Morgan gave a resigned sigh.

"All right, fine, but you tell Hotch and Rossi that if anything happens to her, I'll be coming for them."

Alex nodded. "I understand."

* * *

"I'm not an FBI Agent, Derek, I'm a computer geek!"

"I'll be with you every step of the way, Penelope. I promise that I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Penelope turned away and her eye was caught by one of her screens, the one which was displaying the victim's driving licences. In that moment, she knew that she couldn't say no, because the faces of those women were haunting her. They, but for the grace of God, could have been her.

Decision made, her hands began to shake and her eyes stung with tears, which she tried to blink back.

"Oh, hey, Sweetheart, I'm sorry." Derek wrapped his strong arms around her and pressed a kiss against her hair. "I shouldn't have asked you, I'm sorry."

"No." She raised her head of his chest and looked up at him. "That's not why I'm crying."

"Then what's up?"

"I'm scared."

Derek could understand that but she had been in worse danger before and right now, she wasn't even in danger.

"I'll be with you every second, okay? I promise, nothing is going to happen to you."

"No, Derek, it's not…" she took a deep breath and tried to calm down enough to sound coherent. "I see death and suffering every day but I feel safe, because I know those perverts don't want me."

Derek frowned and she knew that she wasn't explaining herself very well, but this was hard. As close as she and Derek were, her weight had always been off limits as a topic of conversation.

She reluctantly pulled out of his embrace and turned her back to him; this would be easier if she didn't have to look at him.

"I developed early," she began. "Puberty hit when I was eleven and suddenly, I have these breasts and everything changed. I told you about that clown, right?"

"Who groped you?"

"Yeah but he wasn't the first or the last. Suddenly boys and men wanted to know me. The boys in school used to dare each other to ping my bra strap, or try and pull my top down, or steal my bra while I was in the shower after gym class. That's when I stopped enjoying sports.

"As for the adults, they seemed to think that it was okay to hit on a child, just because I had breasts. They catcalled from cars, made rude gestures, propositioned me, chatted me up on the bus… As for the girls, well they hated me, hated that the boys liked me. But I didn't want them to like me, and I didn't understand why girls who had been my friends suddenly resented me, like it was my fault. My skirts got longer, my collars got higher and I wore a lot of black, but it didn't make any difference."

She could feel it when Derek stepped up behind her and she knew that he wanted to comfort her, but was fearful of putting her off.

"I'm sorry, Penelope."

"It's not your fault; kids can be cruel and those that aren't, they're just stupid and follow the herd. I was so miserable that by age 13, I had started to comfort eat. A few months of that and suddenly men weren't so interested any more. A lot of the girls had hit puberty by then too, so the boys were showing them the interest that they used to show me, only they weren't alone like I had been, 'cos everyone was suddenly growing curves.

"After a couple of months, I began to relax. I experimented with clothes again, wore bright colours for the first time in a couple of years, but no one seemed to notice. It was like being fat made me invisible. It's my shield, Derek, my defence against the assholes out there. It keeps the shallow jerks away. Only guys who are interested in more than just my looks come near me; guys who don't want a supermodel, guys who value women for more than just how they look." She turned around and gave him a teary smile. "Nice guys."

"Thank you for telling me." Derek opened his arms and she fell into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked her back, soothing her.

He understood now. No matter how much death and depravity she saw, she felt safe because these guys usually went for beautiful women, and she didn't consider herself beautiful.

He pressed a kiss onto her hair. "It's okay, you don't have to do this, I'll tell Hotch."

"No, I want to do this, Derek. You guys all do so much good, save so many lives. Now it's my turn."

"We couldn't do what we do without your skills, and it's not about turns. You don't have to do this."

"I know, I know that, but I feel like I owe it to those women to do something." She looked up at him. "I want to do this."

"You sure?"

"Yes." She smiled. It wasn't as big or as bright as her usual smiled and while she wasn't crying any more, her eyes were still teary, and Morgan had never admired courage more.

"I'm gonna be right by your side all the time, okay?"

She nodded. "But doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of using me as bait?"

"You're not bait," he assured her. "We're going to put a camera on you and have you do a lot of the activities of the victims, then we'll profile the people you come into contact with."

"Okay," she nodded. "I can do that."

"Thank you. Ready to go?"

"I think I need more hugging first." She rested her head back on his chest and she could feel his chest rise and fall as he laughed. His hand began rubbing her back again.

"Take as long as you need, Baby Girl."

* * *

Since this was more than just accompanying her team on a case, Penelope went home to pack, rather than just taking her 'go bag'. It seemed that she had decided to treat this as a holiday and Morgan understood that it was her coping mechanism.

She gushed over the luxury on the plane and since they were alone (save for the pilot) she made a few ribald suggestions that they join the mile high club. If it hadn't been for the fact that she wouldn't let his hand go, a sign that she was worried and not thinking clearly, he might have taken her up on the offer.

Since she was viewing this as a holiday, he had swiped a bottle from her wine rack, which they shared on the plane. He didn't drink more than a few sips but he was trying to play along with her holiday idea, and he hoped that a glass or two would help her relax.

She did seem calmer by the time they landed, and she let go of his hand when she saw that JJ and Reid were waiting for them on the tarmac.

"Hey, guys," Penelope smiled as she greeted them. "So, what's the plan?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" JJ asked.

"A-okay, hunky-dorie and ready to go," Penelope assured her.

JJ gave Morgan a slightly worried look. That had been over the top even for Garcia, but he just nodded for her to go with it.

"All right, we'll brief you on the way."

Reid drove and JJ sat beside him, turned to face Morgan and Garcia in the back. She opened an envelope and began sorting through documents.

"Your names are Derek and Penelope Atkins-"

"You mean we're marred?" Penelope asked.

"That's your cover," JJ confirmed, passing over a box of rings. "Choose one that fits best. You live in an apartment-"

"No honeymoon suite?"

"No," JJ smiled. "You've been married for a year, the honeymoon suite might seem a little odd."

Penelope shrugged, clearly she didn't agree, and began trying the gold bands on. She was surprised when she'd found one, that Morgan took the box and sorted through to find for one for himself.

"You're both run a small web design firm." JJ handed them each a stack of business cards. "Garcia, you are the tech side of the business, Morgan, you're the manager slash administrator."

"Looks like I'm the brains to your beauty," Derek teased.

"You know it," she grinned.

JJ tried to suppress a smile as she continued. These two already acted like a married couple.

"Your apartment is on the same block as the first victim, Kelly Price," she handed the keys, "You'll mostly be following the first and second victim's routines, frequenting places that they did, since it's most likely that the earlier victims had a connection to the unsub. We've got spy cameras hidden in glasses, broaches and button cams, which you'll be wearing whenever you go out. We don't want you to worry about profiling anyone, you leave that to us, you just be your usual self."

There were a few other details, which JJ went over, including an itinerary, and then JJ gave them credit cards in their new names, driving licences, Blockbuster membership cards, and other miscellaneous items to prove their new identities.

Their apartment was one floor of a converted brownstone in Manhattan's Upper West Side. It was already furnished (obviously) but Garcia liked it because while it was modern, they had retained most of the period features. It reminded her of some of the houses Derek had renovated; he had a great eye for interior design.

The place was already stocked with necessities and as JJ explained the basics of the apartment (such as thermostat and air conditioning) Penelope's eye was caught by the photographs dotted around the room. They were mostly of her and Derek, taken at various dinners and parties that the team had been to. In some, she knew that other people had been cut out of the picture but in all of the couple shots, she and Derek were touching each other.

"You make a cute couple, don't you think?" JJ asked, surprising her; Penelope hadn't heard her approach.

"Anyone would look cute with Derek." Penelope brushed the comment aside and moved away.

"Well, anyway, if it was anyone else, I'd coach you on how to appear like a couple, but you and Derek already act like you are, so I think we can skip that."

Derek came into the room. "I put your case on the bed, Sweetheart."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"I just need to walk you through the cameras," Reid said, opening a laptop.

Penelope came up behind him. Lying on the desk next to the laptop was a selection of spy cams.

"There's a camera in each of these items," he explained, showing her a pen that could fit into onto a shirt or jacket pocket, and where the camera was located. "Each device also has a signal booster which you must carry with you at all times, and it's hooked into the cell phone network, so we can follow your movements anywhere, as long as you're by a cell tower." He handed her something that looked like a clamshell cell phone. "You can carry it in your bag most of the time but it's small enough to slip into your bra if necessary, and you have to recharge it each night. The feed goes to this laptop and to our computers downtown." He demonstrated by bringing up the feeds from various cameras.

"Do I have to wear one if we're here?" Penelope asked, not liking the idea of being watched while off duty.

"Only if someone knocks on the door, then you should put one on before you answer. The program will start to record the feed as soon as you turn a camera on." He then explained where the on/off switch was for each camera, and he showed her how to use an earbud, which looked a little like a tiny hearing aid. "Each camera has a microphone so we can hear you, and we can talk to you though he earbud. If you need to speak directly to us and Morgan isn't around, just take your cell phone out and pretend like you're making a call."

"Or people will guess that I'm wired?"

"More likely, they'll think you're crazy but either way, it isn't good."

Penelope smiled. "Thanks, Reid."

When they had explained everything they thought necessary, Reid and JJ headed upstairs. Penelope headed into the bedroom to unpack and noticed that there was only one double bed.

'_Talk about awkward_,' she thought. "How many bedrooms does this place have?" she called through to Derek.

"Just the one, we're a middle-class couple so we can't look too wealthy," he called. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Penelope muttered. "Maybe because sharing a bed with you would be major league uncomfortable not to mention, far too tempting to chance."

"What'd you say?" he called through.

"Oh, uh, nothing, just that this place looked bigger at first glance."

Derek appeared in the doorway, smiling as he leaned up against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest, and she knew that he'd heard every word.

"Don't worry, Princess, I'll sleep on the couch."

"What? On that old, lumpy thing?"

"Have you even sat on the couch?"

"Well, no, I haven't, but that can't be good for a man like you. No couch can."

"A man like me?" His smile slipped.

"Yes! You know, someone on the plus side of six foot, who works out compulsively and therefore needs a good night's sleep. I'll take the couch."

"It's fine," he assured her. "Besides, if you were out there, you'd be between me and a possible intruder, which is not smart."

"But the unsub hasn't taken anyone from their homes, so it doesn't matter," she argued.

"First time for everything."

"Okay, but what if they come in the bedroom window?"

"We're not on the ground floor."

"Criminals can work a ladder, Morgan."

"Then we'll just have to share the bed." He grinned at her.

Garcia frowned as she considered that option. It was a big bed, and she had night wear with her, so she supposed if they both changed in the bathroom, it would be okay.

"All right, fine. But I get the left side."

"Good, 'cos I prefer the right anyway." He grinned and was about to leave when she giggled. "Oh my god, I think we just had our first fight as a married couple!"

"You sound far too happy about that."

Garcia shrugged. "The fact we didn't throw anything bodes very well for us, my love."

He smiled. "They left a bunch of take-out menus from the restaurants our victims used, so what do you feel like?"

"If this is part of the investigation, does that mean that dinner's on the Bureau?"

"Sure does."

"Then I'll go for whichever one has lobster."

"You don't even like lobster," he reminded her.

She pouted. "Fine, Mexican then. You know what I like."

* * *

Penelope was feeling very awkward when she emerged from the bathroom that night. Morgan had already changed, into a t-shirt and shorts, and was sitting up in bed.

"Hey, just going over our itinerary for tomorrow," he said, looking up as she came out of the bathroom. He smiled at her PJs. "Bunny rabbits?"

"Don't diss the bunnies, Morgan, or I may have to hurt you."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He held his hands up in surrender. He quickly turned his attention back to the papers he was holding, so Penelope climbed in beside him and leaned over to look.

"I have to join a gym?" she asked. "Sweat and I don't mix well, remember?"

"You won't have to go there often," he assured her. "And if you do this, I promise to workout nearby… topless."

"Oh, you know play me like a concert pianist sitting at a Steinway."

"You love it," he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

"I do," she agreed. "But ooh, I like the sound of lunch at Café Red. And the farmers market, I love those places

She took the papers from them and began to leaf through them. Each day contained a list of activities and addresses. The order and time frame could be decided by them, except for stopping by the FBI New York office every afternoon to check in with the team.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Penelope hadn't brought any clothes to exercise in so first thing the next morning, they went shopping. Well, first thing, after Derek's exercise regime, the shower time-share, breakfast and a sound/vision check on the spy cams.

Penelope's camera was wide angle, so JJ and Reid could see almost 180 degrees. Morgan also wore a camera and his job was to keep an eye out for the people that Penelope and her camera couldn't see, people who might be watching or following her.

"God, I hate this type of clothing," Penelope said as they browsed the isles of Jackson Sports.

"Why?"

"Look at it, it's all so samey," she said, holding up a white t-shirt. "No style."

"I don't know, I think I might like seeing you in this." He held up some kind of all-in-one unitard.

Penelope giggled. "I might as well go naked as wear that."

"You won't hear any complaints from me." He hung the garment back on its rail and draped an arm around her shoulders while they browsed.

Garcia didn't see anything that caught her eye and she was about to give up and get black pants and plane t-shirt, when a sales assistant approached.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked giving Morgan a big smile.

Penelope instantly hated her. She would have said no but Morgan spoke before she could.

"Sure," he gave the sales assistant, whose name badge declared her to be Lindsay, one of his beautiful smiles. "My baby girl here needs some workout clothes, but something with a little more personality than you have here."

Lindsay looked Penelope up and down, taking in her size and rather loud dress sense, then plastered a friendly smile on her face as she looked back to Morgan.

"We deal more with pro and semi-pro athletes, so I don't think we have what you're looking for, but she could just wear loose clothing. My sister, she works out in men's clothes or oversized garments."

"Anywhere around here that we could get something like that?" he asked.

"There's a Macey's a few blocks over."

Penelope pulled a face, she was _so_ not a Macey's girl, but the assistant wasn't looking at her anyway. She was often more invisible than ever when she was out with Derek, especially to other women, and it was one of the few occasions when she wished that she was she wasn't.

"Thanks. Come on, Gorgeous." Morgan used the arm around shoulder to guide her away but as Linsday turned her back, Penelope heard her mutter something. She couldn't make out the words but she knew roughly what it would be. Something like, '_The walk will do you good_.'

* * *

They hadn't visited Macey's, instead Penelope had stopped in at the next department store they passed, and bought black sweat pants, a dark t-shirt and trainers. The assistant in that shop had been much more helpful, actually looking Garcia in the eye and asking her what she was looking for. She cast an appreciative eye over Derek (and really, who didn't?) but her gaze didn't linger.

After that they went to the gym that the first victim had attended, getting there for noon. The guy behind the desk, Brian, was very helpful and he showed them around the gym, demonstrating how to use each machine and offering advice for her workout, such as how much weight to lift in the beginning, what sort of speed to set the treadmills and cycles to, until she was used to them. He was very chatty, asking what her fitness goals were ("Just to be a little more active, I work a desk job"), what she did for a living, where she was from, how she and Derek met and many other things. They met a few of the other staff members who were on duty, a woman and two other men, and Brian suggested that she might prefer Janet as her personal trainer; apparently a lot of women preferred another woman.

Brian then offered Penelope a week's free trial, which included one session with a personal trainer, and one of their regular classes. She chose zumba, which was one of the first victims preferred classes, the other being spinning, but Penelope hated bikes.

They didn't stay to work out but said they would return at 6pm, for her first zumba class.

She thought that his interest had been simply a good sales technique, but as soon as they were in the car, Derek spoke into his microphone, asking JJ and Reid what they thought. They found nothing unusual in Brian's interest, he was probably on commission after all, but Derek evidently suspected him.

Penelope laughed.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Oh, sweet cheeks, Brian is gay."

"What?"

She smiled and nodded.

"How can you tell?" Reid asked over her earpiece.

"You're looking for people who check me out but Brian definitely checked Derek out, and he really liked what he saw."

They moved onto lunch after that, a favourite bistro of victim number two, but Penelope thought that she might have enjoyed it more if they didn't have JJ and Reid buzzing in their ears.

"Morgan, can you get me a better view of the man who just came in?" Reid asked.

Derek removed the pen from his shirt pocket and aimed the camera at the newcomer. JJ and Reid were getting screencaptures of the men that they came into contact with, then Penelope's facial recognition program would look for the same face to appear in multiple locations.

"Got it," came Reid's voice.

Morgan played with the pen for a few moments, before putting it back in his breast pocket. After a rather stilted lunch, they caught a cab to the block next to the FBI HQ, Morgan watching for a tail as they walked the short distance to the rear entrance of the building.

Once inside, they headed up to the office that the team was using. Because the murders had occurred across different precincts, the police joint taskforce was also working from here, not only making it easier for officers from different station houses to come together in one, coordinated group, but here they not only has the resources of the BAU at their disposal, but also the FBI.

Morgan and Garcia sat down with the whole BAU team for a briefing, but they had nothing new. Reid and JJ hadn't noticed anyone suspicious on the camera feeds, Blake and Rossi had been going through the sexual crimes involving larger women than Penelope had collated, but had found nothing that sounded like their unsub. Hotch had been working with the police, who were staging recreations of the victim last movements and canvasing for witnesses.

From the computers that Reid and JJ were using to monitor her, Penelope checked on the programs that she had left running in Quantico, ones that were sifting through the victim's lives, such as press articles and online activity, hoping to find a commonality in the cases. Reid was quite capable of monitoring the results but she liked to check, just in car there was an unexpected bug in her software. She checked all her other background programs while she was there too.

She then checked the facial recognition software but so far, the same face hadn't been encountered twice. She didn't expect any results yet anyway.

Morgan sat with JJ and Reid at the conference table we they went over the people had come into contact with, to give his own impressions of them.

The door opened and Hotch entered. They could tell from the look on his face that it wasn't good news.

"They found Beth Abbot's body."

"Where?" Morgan asked.

"They just pulled her body out of the East River."

"Do we have a time of death?"

"Not yet. You and Penelope need to continue with the ruse, he'll be looking for another victim soon. Blake, you go with the uniforms and speak with the husband, Rossi and I will go to the scene."

Everyone dispersed, except Penelope, who sat stock still.

"Hey, Penelope, you okay?"

She looked up into Morgan's worried eyes, then over to the picture of the last victim, which was taped to the whiteboard.

"Shit just got real," she tried to joke, but her voice was decidedly flat.

"Come on, Sweet Lady, let's grab some ice cream on our way to the farmers market."

"Doesn't that defeat the point of going to a gym tonight?" she asked, nevertheless allowing herself to be guided out of the room.

"You heard that phrase, don't do the crime if you can't do the time?"

Penelope gasped and playfully pushed him away. "Oh, you did not just call ice cream a crime, Derek Morgan, I know you aren't that dumb! Ice cream is the nectar of the Gods and you should never disrespect it."

Morgan pulled her against him and she slipped an arm around his waist.

"Just for that, you're paying," she told him.

JJ smiled as the door closed behind them. "Do you think those two will ever figure out that they're perfect for each other?" she asked Reid.

"I think they already know it, they're just in denial. Probably fear based, most denial is."

She smiled at his ever logical answers. "Well, maybe this experience will help them overcome their fears."

* * *

When Penelope came out of zumba, she was pissed. Since he couldn't literally be her shadow, Derek had waited in the gym's juice bar while Penelope worked out. She had been nervous going in, worried that people would stare at her, but he knew that at a gym, people came to work out and weren't anywhere near as interested in those around them, as self-conscious people might think.

She had to pass the bar to get to the changing rooms though, and she shot the man beside Derek a filthy look.

Morgan abandoned his espresso and ran after her, catching her just before she entered the ladies changing room.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No, Derek, I am not okay. I am hot, sweaty, tired, my hair is flat and my mascara is running."

"Did something happen?"

"That isn't enough?"

"You were glaring at the man next to me, I thought maybe he made you uncomfortable."

"Oh," she looked surprised for a moment, then began to giggle. "Oh god, did he notice?"

"I think so."

"That poor man!" she was still giggling.

"Am I missing something here?"

Penelope pulled her glasses off and slipped them onto his face.

"Garcia?"

She was still laughing but he didn't complain when she put her arms around him. She stretched up on her toes so he bent his head, wondering what she was doing. He was a little disappointed when all she did was whisper in his ear.

"Dr Brainiac put cameras in some super cool glasses, but he forgot that my glasses aren't just a fashion statement. There's no prescription in them, I'm blind as a bat." She kissed his cheek before pulling away. "Oh, that poor man. He probably thinks that I'm some kind of psycho."

Derek smiled and on impulse, kissed her lips. They both suddenly stopped laughing, frozen in place, their gazes locked on each other. He didn't think that he was imagining the desire he saw in her eyes.

"Hey, Penelope, isn't it?"

They pulled away from each other to look at the blonde woman who had spoken, Penelope squinted to try and see her a little better.

"Yeah, uh, oh, Derek, this is…"

"Jill," she held her hand out to him and Derek shook it.

"She taught the class," Penelope explained.

"Nice to meet you," Derek explained, momentarily nonplussed by the odd smile she was giving him. "Oh," he realised that he still had Penelope's red, cat's-eye style glasses on, and quickly handed them back to her.

"First time?" Jill asked Penelope.

"Is it that obvious?"

"No, of course not," she smiled. "Well, I'm sure you want your shower now, so it was nice to meet you. You too, Derek."

Penelope couldn't see it clearly, but she had a feeling that Jill was checking Derek out, probably giving him that come-hither look that so many women gave him. Still, she had spoken to Penelope like she was a real human being, and maybe she just hadn't noticed their wedding bands.

"See you around," Jill said, disappearing through the door into the changing room.

"Why don't you go and get changed," Derek said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She brushed it off. "Don't, I'm all sweaty."

"Looks good from where I'm standing," he assured her. "I got a few other activities that will give you a through workout too, if you're interested."

"You are such a tease," she said, narrowing her eyes to glare at him. "One of these days, I'm going to call your bluff."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Ah, you guys do realise that we can hear you, right?" came Reid's voice over Morgan's ear bud. Penelope had taken her's out while she exercised, so Morgan ignored him.

"Yeah, well get comfortable," Penelope teased. "It might take me a while to look irresistible again."

"Take as long as you need," he kissed her forehead. "I'll be in the juice bar."

* * *

Penelope couldn't be certain but she was pretty sure that when Morgan kissed her earlier, there had been more than just friendship in his eyes. Of course, she was half blind without her glasses, so she could be reading more into it; maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. She had to be careful not to read too much into this 'playing house' charade that they had going on.

"You did really good tonight, Pen. Do you mind if I call you that?" Jill asked. Unfortunately the changing room was communal.

"It's, fine. Derek has a hundred and one nicknames for me, so I answer to pretty much anything.

"So is Derek your husband?"

"He surely is."

"You've got yourself quite a catch there."

"Thank you." Penelope put the camera glasses away and put on her own, so that she could finally see her instructor. Jill was basically every woman's nightmare; tall, blonde, thin and beautiful, so it was a good job that Penelope didn't feel the need to compete with her, because she would surely lose.

Penelope pinned her hair up and made her way to one of the shower stalls; Jill did too and they re-emerged at roughly the same time. Penelope stuffed her workout clothes into her bag and carefully, using the towel to cover herself, began to dress. She always hated changing rooms, where you were on display to everyone, even if it was only women present.

"Will you come again?" Jill asked. For some unknown reason, getting hot and sweaty, then showering hadn't diminished Jill's beauty at all; she still looked perfect.

"Um, yeah, it was fun, so I think I will." It really wasn't that much fun but it was part of the job.

"Did you join or are you on a trial."

"A week's trial," she answered, dropping the towel now that she was mostly dressed.

"Well if you've decided to join, I can sign you up before you leave. I'll even give you my employee 'friends and family' discount."

"Thanks, Jill, that's really sweet of you."

"No problem. Just stop by the front desk on your way out and I'll sort it for you."

"I may be some time."

"No problem, I have some paperwork to do anyway."

"Okay, thanks."

She finished dressing, then used the hairdryer to dry her roots off, before putting her hair into bunches then platting them, like a blonde Pippy Longstocking.

It took a little longer to reapply her makeup, then she headed out. Derek was already at the front desk, chatting to Jill, who smiled as she approached them. She had brought clothes that were fit to eat out in and was wearing a light blue, knee length wraparound dress, which clung to her generous curves.

"Hey, Baby Girl," Derek said, putting his arm around her and placing a kiss on her temple. "You look good!"

"Don't sound so surprised, and thanks to my glasses, your handsome face is in focus for a change."

"I wasn't handsome before?"

"Let's just say that without my glasses, your six pack turns into a barrel. Hi-definition Morgan makes for a far better viewing experience."

"Morgan?" Jill asked. "I thought your name was Derek?"

"'More than'," Derek covered the slip. "It's a nickname; she says I bit off more than I could chew when I married her. I've been Derek 'More Than' Atkins ever since."

"That's one way of putting it," Jill said with a strange smile, then turned to Penelope. "Derek already filled in your information so if you just sign here," Jill passed over a clipboard and pointed. "Then we're done."

"Great." Penelope signed, only just remembering to sign Atkins as her last name.

"This is your temporary membership card," Jill handed something like a business card over. "Your real one should be ready in a week or so."

"Okay."

"And this is my zumba timetable," Jill handed her a photocopied sheet. "I do personal training here every day and Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, I hold zumba classes. I also have a few elsewhere, church halls and stuff, if they're more convenient for you."

"Thanks, Jill. I appreciate it."

Morgan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Princess; let's find somewhere nice for dinner."

* * *

The meal at San Sebastian's was delicious and Penelope could quite understand why some of the victims had frequented this place. Only one came here regularly but then, it was quite pricey; a high-day and holiday kind of place for most budgets.

They also found their first suspect here, in their waiter, Joe. Even with her prescription glasses back on, Penelope didn't see anything wrong in his behaviour, although Derek and JJ clearly did. He was very chatty with them and even slightly flirtatious with Penelope. He shook hands with Derek as he introduced himself as their server, but then he had kissed the back of Penelope's hand.

He asked a lot about them; was this their first visit 'because I'm sure I would remember a woman as beautiful as you,' he had smiled at Penelope. He went on to ask if they were they local or visiting, did they like the city? How long had they been here, where they were from originally, what they did for a living, etcetera.

Penelope thought that he was just after a generous tip but Reid explained (through the earpiece) that he seemed to be showing signs of genuine attraction. Penelope didn't find it that hard to believe after all, she wasn't some kind of troll, living under a bridge. She also felt that he was within her league, not exactly handsome but cute. Derek however, agreed with Reid that it was suspect behaviour.

Reid went on to explain that it was likely that the unsub likely had a fetish for BBW women, or was at least primarily attracted to a larger women, even if he hadn't fetishized that attraction.

Derek realised that something was wrong, he was a profiler after all, but she didn't want to have an argument with him in the middle of a restaurant so each time he asked, she insisted she was fine.

Besides, he was probably right. She had fought with him before over a man liking her, and look how that had ended! And this time she was voluntarily putting herself in the path of a killer, so she shouldn't really be angry at Derek for looking at everyone who crossed her path as a potential psycho.

Derek asked if she was okay twice but thankfully, he didn't press the issue. She was glad really, because not only didn't she want to have this argument, she especially didn't want to have it in front of JJ and Reid.

She cheered up a little over the dessert course. She had dithered for a few moments, choosing between the crème brulee and the strawberry cheesecake, finally deciding on the brulee. When Joe brought the dessert however, he had also brought her a small slice of the cheesecake, 'On the house,'.

"Could he be a feeder?" Penelope heard JJ say over her earpiece.

Both desserts lost their appeal after that comment since what she saw as a kind gesture, had been turned into an unhealthy desire to make her gain weight.

She forced herself to eat a few mouthfuls of each desert, not wanting to offend their server (no matter what the others read into his behaviour) but if they kept this up every time she ate out, she'd be a size 4 by the time they returned home.

She remained quiet all the way home and, claiming she was tired after her earlier exercise, took a long bubble bath as soon as they got home, then went to bed.

Finally alone and locked in the bathroom, she finally let a few tears flow. Penelope wouldn't say that she was prone to self-pity but the fact was, rarely felt less attractive than she did right then; no longer a woman or even a person. She had been reduced to a fetish, simply an object that abnormal men found necessary for sexual gratification.

She could understand why her friends were saying those things, and she couldn't even say that they were totally without merit, she just hadn't expected to take everything so personally.

This was it though. She would allow herself the indulgence of a few tears, then a good night's sleep and tomorrow, she would be her usual, quirky, happy-go-lucky self, even if it killed her.

She pulled her Hello Kitty PJs on as they had long sleeves and legs; she didn't want to be in short sleeves and shorts right now, not even in the privacy of her home and especially not in a house she shared with Derek. Then she climbed into her side of the bed, her back to the middle, and tried counting unicorns to help her sleep.

She was still awake when Derek came to bed but she feigned sleep, unwilling to talk to him yet. She resisted sneaking a peek as he changed for bed and she did her best to breathe deeply and evenly as he got into bed beside her.

"Penelope?" he said softly.

She didn't react.

"I know you're faking."

She still didn't react and he sighed. She almost jumped when she felt his lips on her shoulder, the silky satin of her nightshirt only adding to the sensuous gesture.

"G'night, Gorgeous."

A lone tear slipped from the corner of her eye as he settled beside her because in her mind, she would never be gorgeous. Or at least, not gorgeous enough for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone who left feedback. I can't comment on your guesses as to who the unsub may be (just to make sure that you keep reading) but I think most of you will be very pleased with this chapter :D

* * *

**Chapter Five**

After a troubled night, Penelope awoke early and although she didn't feel at all rested, she was determined not to feel down today. Careful not to wake Derek, she crept into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, then she carefully collected up what she needed and went out into the living room to get ready.

Once dressed, she sat at the kitchen table to curl her hair, then took a little more time than usual applying her makeup, using it as a kind of mask, a shield she could use to hide her vulnerability from the world. She had chosen a purple dress, teaming it with matching lilac heels and bolero cardigan. Then she sat in front of her mirror again and pinned the front curls back from her face, adding a lilac satin fascinator, which she pinned above one ear.

When she was done, she heard the shower running and knew that Derek was awake. He was usually up before now, but she plastered a smile on her face and began making pancakes for breakfast.

As she cooked, she wondered if he had already done his exercises this morning, because she hadn't heard any signs. It wasn't like him to skip it but if he was in the shower, he clearly either _had_ worked out, or he wasn't intending to.

With the pancake mix made and now that she didn't risk waking him, she turned the kitchen radio on and flicked through the pre-programmed stations, until We Are Young came on. The song was old now but she still liked it. She began to sing along, as she added the mix to the hot pan, knowing that singing always improved her mood.

She was just serving up the first batch, drizzling them in maple syrup, when Derek emerged. He was dressed in dark, muted colours as usual, the antithesis of her own style, but she had to admit that his look suited him.

He seemed surprised to see her. She didn't know if it was because she was awake before him, already dressed and cooking, or because she was remarkably chipper.

"Penelope?"

"What, no 'Good morning, Princess' today?" she teased.

"Good morning, Princess."

"And a very good morning to you, my Prince."

She handed him a plate of pancakes but he put it down on the counter and stepped up to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, despite the resistance she was offering.

"I just wanted to tell you than I know this can't be easy for you, and I'm proud of you for doing it."

His kind word made her eyes prick with tears again but she couldn't give into them, not today, so she pushed him away and grinned up at him.

"I'm fine, Derek. Honestly."

He didn't look convinced but he didn't press the matter.

"So, looks like my Baby's been busy," he said, picking his plate up and tucking into a pancake. "Mmm, mmm! Looks like I married my very own domestic goddess!"

"I don't think Nigella has anything to worry about," she smiled. She was slightly obsessed with the British cook, Nigella Lawson, AKA the Domestic Goddess. Derek professed to enjoy watching too but Penelope thought it had more to do with her sultry manner and voluptuous figure, than her baking.

"I don't know," Derek ran his eyes over her figure. "Looks like she might from where I'm standing."

Her smile faded. "Derek, stop, please."

He put his plate down and stepped towards her.

"Please tell me what's wrong?"

He looked worried and she sighed, knowing that she was the cause of his concern and that she'd have to explain herself.

"I know we're like this all the time and it's normal for us but now, with this case, we're playing a married couple and it's part of the job but… I'm having a hard time keeping fantasy and reality separated. I'd feel much more comfortable if we only kept the pretence up outside of the apartment."

His expression, initially concerned, hardened as she continued talking. His jaw was locked as he nodded, seemingly having to force the word "Fine," out. Then he turned away, grabbed his phone and placed a call as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Yeah, Hotch, I just wondered if you'd learned anything else overnight?"

She didn't understand his reaction. Sure, he'd been trying to cheer her up but he seemed offended by her words, almost… not angry as such, perhaps hurt was a better word. She couldn't fathom why, what she had said that could upset him.

He could only be hurt if his touching her was something that he wanted to do and while it probably was, this moratorium wasn't forever, just until the end of the case. So then why, unless... was he enjoying the pretence?

Was it possible? Could a man like Derek Morgan have feelings for her? It was unlikely but not impossible.

In a daze, she cleared the food away, both Derek's barely touched plate and her own untouched food. Only it wasn't shame or unhappiness that killed her appetite this time, it was nerves.

When Morgan hung up the phone she stopped her clearing and went into the living room.

"Derek?"

He turned to her and made an effort to smile.

"I… I…" She began to pace, since she found it easier to think when upset if she did so, even if there wasn't much room to pace. "I may be completely off base here and I know I'm no profiler so I probably am, and my stomach feels all weird and it isn't easy to think right now, and I don't understand why they call it butterflies because it feels more like a big basket of snakes, all slithering around inside there and-"

"Whoa, pump your brakes, Penelope." He caught her as she passed him and taking ahold of her shoulders, turned her to face him. "Now take a deep breath."

She did so.

"All right. Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

"Do-you-have-feelings-for-me?" She ran the words together in her haste.

"Do I…"

"Have-feelings-for-me!" She repeated, louder but not slower. Still, he caught her meaning that time.

"Garcia, you know I do."

"No!" she cried. "Not feelings; _feelings_!"

Derek was frowning and Garcia felt her chance slipping away, only she didn't feel brave enough to declare herself. What if she told him that she loved him, really loved him, as in romantic love, and he said he didn't feel the same way. And why would he? He was _so_ out of her league that it wasn't even funny.

"Garcia, I don't know how to answer that." He still looked puzzled.

"I love you," she blurted. Suddenly the snakes were gone, replaced by a pile of rocks, which felt like they were weighing her down.

"You know I love you too." He reached out to cup her cheek but she batted his hand away.

"I mean, I really love you, Derek! Like, hearts and flowers and picturing my wedding day-"

"Garcia-"

"-and the whole nine yards and although it's crazy-"

"Garcia"

"-I thought earlier that maybe I'd hurt you-"

"Garcia-"

"-and I wondered why you'd take it so personally-"

"Penelope-"

"-and then I realised that maybe you love me too and you thought that I didn't want you and-"

He was starting to think that she was going to ramble on for quite some time and short of shouting at her, he did the only thing that he could think of; he kissed her.

It wasn't a deep and passionate kiss, but it was loving. At least he hoped it was loving but when he pulled away, smiling warmly at her, she looked panicked, her eyes as wide as saucers and she clearly hadn't closed them during the kiss.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked, sounding a little bit smug.

"You kissed me."

"Yes I did, Baby Girl."

"Was that like a, 'you're my best friend and I love you' kiss, or an 'I wanna jump your bones real bad' kind of kiss?"

"Somewhere in between, but I definitely want to do the latter," he assured her, his smile widening as she worked this news through.

"So you do like me? As in _like me_, like me?"

"Oh, Baby Girl, I more than like you." He didn't know why her feelings for him had changed but he felt elated that they had, so he was slightly surprised when she punched him in the upper arm.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Why didn't you say anything!" she demanded.

"Because by the time I realised, you had been shot and I didn't want to be 'that guy', the one who preys on vulnerable women. Then the next thing I knew, you were dating Kevin."

"But we broke up a year ago!" She punched him again.

"And I didn't want to be your rebound man. Besides, I didn't think I was your type."

"Not my type?" She punched his arm again and it was starting to hurt.

"Will you stop hitting me?"

"No! How do you know I even have a type?"

"Because I see you among your people, Penelope. When you're with the techs, it's like you're speaking another language. You laugh at jokes I don't even understand."

"So?!"

"So I didn't think you wanted a guy like me, I'm not your match, Penelope, you need a genius."

"If that were true, I'd be with Spencer! I need someone who loves and respects me, Derek, that's all! And even if you were right about me having a type, you aren't dumb, sweetie!"

"Compared to you, I am."

"You're the one with a degree, I dropped out of college, remember?"

"But you still became one of the best hackers in the world."

"Yeah, because computers are my thing, even Kevin couldn't match me, but that doesn't make me anything special!"

"It does in my eyes."

"So if I was a piano prodigy, you wouldn't date me either?"

"It's not the same-"

"It is exactly the same, Derek. I know how to make my keys play beautiful informational music, but I suck as doing my taxes, I can only read about three pages of a book in a minute and I can't sew for toffees. I might be talented when it comes to programming but that's the extent of my gifts. And even if I was, a genius I would not be an intellectual snob."

"So you'd slum it with me?" he asked, caustically.

"I don't 'slum it' with anyone, Derek."

"Yet you moved straight on to that Sam guy."

"We went on a handful of dates, that's all! And that was months after Kevin and I broke up; you had plenty of time to make a move! We even went to England together!"

"Well, you never told me that you were interested either!" he snapped back.

"It was implied every day, and girls who look like me don't proposition guys who look like you."

"But you were so mad when you thought we'd slept together?" Derek sounded more confused than angry or defensive.

"Because I trust you with my life and I didn't think you were the sort to take advantage of a drunk woman, especially this drunk woman; the idea that you might have, hurt me. Not to mention that I was still with Kevin then, and I don't cheat. Ever. With anyone. No matter how hot he may be."

"If you really liked me, then why did you go out with Kevin in the first place?"

"Because you didn't make a move! What was I supposed to do, stay single and pine for you? End up as an old maid who lives with two dozen cats and crochets tablecloths?"

"No." He gave a long sigh and ran a hand over his head. "No, I… You're right, I should have said something but… I thought that you weren't interested and I didn't want to ruin what we had by making a pass at you. If I read you wrong, I'm sorry."

Penelope made an effort to calm down as well. "I'm sorry too."

They stood silently for a moment, neither willing to meet the other's eye.

"So where does that leave us?" Morgan finally asked.

"I don't know," she admitted, glancing up at him. "Of all the ways I have pictured us getting together over the years, none of them involved a fight within the first five minutes."

"Well, you know," he said, his voice sexy but not seductive (he didn't want to scare her off, after all). "One of the good things about fighting, is making up."

Although she still looked upset, she couldn't help the slight smile that crept onto her lips.

"What a pair we are," she said, shaking her head but still smiling.

Morgan knew that he was winning her over so he took both her hands in his.

"Just so there's no doubts, Penelope Garcia, not only are you my best friend, I am crazy about every loud, inappropriate, colourful inch of you."

"Charmer," she tried to chastise him, but the punch she gave his arm now was playful.

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. You know I can never stay mad at you."

Derek pulled her closer and put his arms around her waist, holding her against him.

"I want to kiss you."

"After an apology like that, I'd be upset if you didn't." She grinned and Derek couldn't help but return it.

As he lowered his head, their smiles faded and this time, she closed her eyes. He kissed her gently at first, his lips barely brushing hers, then he deepened the kiss, slowly building the intensity of each one. Just when he was about to deepen the kiss further and seek entrance to her mouth, his phone rang. He ignored it and carried on with the kiss anyway.

Then her phone rang and they knew that the mood was about to be broken, one way or the other. They stood with their foreheads touching for a moment, each trying to regain their equilibrium.

"You're far too good at that," she told him, seeming rather flustered.

"To be continued?" he asked.

Penelope nodded then reluctantly, stepped out of his embrace. Her phone had stopped ringing but Derek's began again and this time, he answered it.

"Morgan."

"Where were you guys?" Reid asked.

"Garcia didn't hear the phone and I was in the bathroom."

"Oh, right. Well Hotch wants you to stop by HQ first thing, we've got the preliminary finding from the autopsy."

"Will do." Derek checked his watch. "Be there in thirty." He hung up.

"Something wrong?" Penelope asked.

"Hotch has the first report from the Medical Examiner, that's all."

She looked a little sad that reality was already intruding but put a brave face on things. "Well, at least there's no gym on today's itinerary."

Derek laughed as Penelope grabbed a camera-broach while he grabbed their coats, holding hers up to help her into it, then slipping an arm around her shoulder as they left the apartment. He paused by the front door however, and stole a quick kiss.

"Come on, Hot Stuff," Penelope chided. "If we don't surface sometime soon, Hotch will put an APB out for us."

"Let him." He stole another quick kiss, which she allowed.

"Or he could think we're in trouble and send SWAT in," she teased. "They'd get an eyeful dontcha think?"

"Fine, you win." He opened the door and led her out to the sidewalk, where they turned their camera's on as they hailed a cab.

They held hands on the cab ride and on the walk to HQ, with Derek discreetly checking for a tail again, but as soon as they got around back of the building, Penelope pulled her hand away.

"What's up?" Derek asked, confused by her behaviour.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Come on, Baby Girl, I thought we were past all that."

Penelope discreetly pointed to her broach, through which Reid and JJ could see what they were seeing. Morgan was wearing a pair of glasses today because unlike Penelope, his didn't need a prescription.

He waited until they had entered the elevator then removed his glasses and turned them off, and Penelope did the same with the broach.

"So what's up?" he asked again. He hadn't pressed the button so the elevator was still.

"I don't want them to know yet," Penelope answered.

"Why not?"

"I know they'd be happy and everything but I just… It's so new, like an hour new. I need some time to get used to it first you know?"

"Penelope, they're more likely to guess if we _don't_ touch. This," he grabbed her hand to demonstrate, "is normal for us." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back.

"You're right, I know you're right; I'm being weird."

Derek pressed the button for their floor and as the lift began moving, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Just relax, Gorgeous, everything's going to be fine."

He kissed her, meaning for it to just be a quick peck but they seemingly couldn't help themselves and it quickly became a passionate clinch until the ding of the lift, signifying that they had reached their floor, made them jump apart. None too soon ether, as Hotch was waiting to get on.

"Good, you're here. Morgan, come with me, Penelope, just…"

"I'll do what I do best, Sir," she said stepping out of the elevator as Hotch stepped in. She smiled to herself as she entered the conference room, where the team had made their base.

"Good morning, my lovely, furry friends."

"Hey Garcia." JJ smiled.

"Anything new on 'Project: Stalk-Penelope'?"

"Nothing yet," JJ informed her. "I'm just going through the background records on the waiter that Derek didn't like, but there's nothing suspicious here."

"Nothing at all? Penelope asked.

"Some petty crime when he was a teenager, shoplifting and similar, but nothing since he was seventeen. He's got a scholarship to NYU, majoring in Politics, and he works nights to cover expenses."

"I told him he was just being paranoid!" It was nice to know that not everyone who liked her was a psycho.

"We can't be too careful," JJ cautioned.

Penelope made her way to the screens as Reid and JJ returned to the files they were looking through.

"So, who are you cheating on me with?" Penelope asked as she looked at her screens.

"Cheating?" Reid sounded confused.

"Yeah." She turned to grin at them. "I assume you have another, not nearly so brilliant, analyst digging up dirt for you?"

"We do," JJ Smiled. "His name is Jeremy Watkins,

"Oh, I know him. He's new but he's pretty good," Garcia agreed.

"He's not nearly as good as you."

"Aww," Penelope smiled. "You're just saying that 'cos it's true."

Once certain that her programs were running without any problems, she continued to sort through the results of the facial recognition program.

"Guys, who is this?" she asked when she realised that her program had found a match; one person who had been in two locations she had visited.

"Uh, we're not sure," Reid said as he approached. "We're running his image through the FBI database but no hits yet. Still, I don't think it's cause to worry; the first image was from your walk to the sports shop yesterday. The next image from when you hailed a cab this morning. The most likely explanation is that he lives or works near you and that's why you've seen him twice."

Just to set her mind at ease, she brought up Joe the waiter's details. JJ was right, all minor stuff that most teenagers do in their rebellious phase. He graduated valedictorian though, and accepted a full academic scholarship (which were far rarer than sports scholarships) to NYU.

Although she knew she probably shouldn't, she looked up the newest report from the medical examiner, who Hotch and Derek were currently visiting.

Poor woman had a hell of a time of it before she died and had even been beaten this time, with something that left round bruises.

She managed to keep herself busy until Derek returned, looking grave, and Penelope asked to speak to him privately.

"We've set up the room next door as an interview room," he explained. "We can use that."

Derek sat on the table, one leg up on the chair as he waited for her to talk.

"What's the profile?" she asked.

"The unsub's profile?"

"Yeah. I'm not usually around when you deliver it, plus I'm not in the field, so I don't need to know what to look out for."

"You sure you want to know? It's not pretty, Garcia."

"I know, I can handle it. I deserve to know who might be after me, don't I?

"Okay." He didn't sound pleased but he wasn't about to impose his will on her, over her own judgement. "Well, first of all, he's organised, which means he's likely of average or above average intelligence. He's in his mid to late 30s, is able to hold a steady job, possibly even to have a wife or girlfriend, and he's well liked by friends and neighbours, not suspicious.

"He's escalating; his attacks are becoming more frequent, he's keeping the victims for less time before killing them and he's begun to beat them. He's not taking as much time and trouble to hide the bodies as he used to, which means he's devolving and likely to start making mistakes. He's power-control killer; he takes the victims, ties them up, starves them, then forces them to ingest poison, which kills them."

"But he doesn't rape them?"

"No. He may not be able to and the control and torture, are a substitute for rape."

"Why do you think he knew the victims?"

"Well we don't know that for sure, but the fact that no one saw the victims being kidnapped means that he was watching them, possibly for some time."

"Because he knew their routines and when they could be taken without being seen?"

"That or if he is a friend or acquaintance, the victims might have gone with him willingly."

"Can't you tell if force was used?"

"We can usually. With the first victims it's hard to be sure as most wounds from a struggle would have had time to heal. This last victim does show signs of physical abuse but the wounds vary in age from just before death to two weeks old, when she was taken. Finding out which ones were caused by a struggle and which might have been inflicted after her kidnapping, is almost impossible."

"Okay, and how long does he keep them for?"

"First victim, almost four weeks. The last one, we think it was nine days, but we only have an estimate on time of death at the moment. We should have more details when some of the test results come back."

"And how long before he takes someone else?"

"In the beginning, he took the second victim a month after the first woman was killed; the last one? Two weeks between the time of the previous woman's death and the next victim being taken.

"So assuming that Beth was killed and dumped yesterday, I have thirteen days and counting."

"At most," Derek nodded slowly. "Are you still okay with this?"

"I guess." Garcia nodded.

"I won't leave your side," he reminded her.

"But you can't even carry a gun at the moment."

"Can't I?" he raised a playful eyebrow.

"You mean you are carrying a gun?"

He nodded as her eyes began to roam over his body, trying to find the tell tale bulge. Her gaze lingered for longer than necessary on a rather unprofessional spot, before continuing down his body.

"Ankle?" she asked, since that seemed to be the only place where his clothing was lose.

"Both ankles," he assured her, standing on one foot and raising a pant leg to show her the gun strapped there.

"Wow, that's small."

Derek burst out laughing. "You know, I'm not so sure that a relationship with you is going to be good for my self-esteem."

"You don't like me talking about your guns in that way?" she smirked.

"Not especially."

She reached both hands out and felt his upper arms. "Well, at least these guns aren't so small."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The rest of their day was filled with various bogus errands, as they went to the places most visited by the victims. They visited a herbal store, two different post offices, a pharmacy, a deli (who made delicious humus, incidentally), a pet shop (three of the victims had animals) and when that was said and done, Garcia had to join the book group that the second victim had belonged to.

The book they had to read for that week was The Kitchen House, which actually sounded very interesting but since she hadn't had time to read it, Penelope memorised the books Wikipedia entry, then read as many reviews as she could find online (for once, not avoiding spoilers).

After visiting a few more stores that afternoon, she and Derek made their way to the library, where the book club met in a side room. It was part of the City's attempt to get more people reading and they had all different genres of clubs, from romance to historical; adult to teen fiction. They laid on a few refreshments, and there was time both before and after for the members of each group to mingle and chat.

Penelope was welcomed warmly by the librarian, Bill, who was leading this group (the historical fiction group) and quickly introduced to a few other members. When everyone had arrived, there were twelve people, plus the librarian. As everyone took their seats, he offered apologies for two other members, who had emailed to say that they couldn't come that evening.

To her surprise, as well as Bill, there were another three men in this group; Ted, Andrew and Stephen. She had expected a book group, and especially a historical fiction club, to be primarily women.

They seemed like a nice bunch of people and they all had interesting insights into the book. Penelope tried not to venture an opinion too much but when asked directly (Bill seemed keen to include her) she fudged as best she could from what she had read. She also had Reid in her ear, who offered an opinion sometimes. Thankfully, no one stood up, pointed at her and called her a fraud.

At the end of the meeting, JJ asked her if she could speak with each of the men for a few minutes and Penelope did her best, although Ted left before she could talk to him.

Bill came to check up on her as she was talking to Andy and two women, Jenny and Kate, then Andy and Bill broke off and began their own discussion.

"No one told me Librarians were hot," Penelope said to the two women once Bill was out of hearing range. "If I had known that librarians were hot, I might have sent more lime in the library and less in the computer lab. I might have had a whole different career path."

She was just being her usual, over the top self, which most people found endearing. Kate rolled her eyes at such obviously flawed thinking, although Jenny seemed to share the sentiment.

"You should ask him out," Jenny urged Penelope. "I would, if I had the courage."

"Trust me, if my Hot Stuff wasn't waiting for me downstairs, I'd be on it like white on rice."

Kate's look asked if Penelope was insane, but Penelope was used to bitchy women and ignored her.

"So what's your man like?" Jenny asked.

"Well, he's tall and dark, and oh so sexy. Kinda like that, actually." She pointed and smiled as she noticed Derek approaching. He had been waiting in the main library for her.

He leaned down to kiss her and his left arm went around her shoulders.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did actually." Just when she thought that she might lose herself in his dark eyes, she remembered her manners. "Derek, this is Jenny and Kate."

He shook hands with them both, although Kate seemed a little hostile. He ignored it, being used to receiving hostility towards interracial couples, from both black and white people. Even if he wasn't actually dating the white woman he was out with, they still received looks, glares and very occasionally, whispered comments. Thankfully, open hostility was rare these days, but he had little doubt that those who disapproved still felt free to air their views in private.

"Ready to go, Gorgeous? He asked Penelope.

"Sure," she smiled, and allowed him to lead her away. Penelope was also used to the looks that she received while out with Derek, although she attributed it to fat phobia. It seemed that a lot of people didn't like seeing a fit, handsome man, out with a less than statuesque woman.

She was well used to it however. Even while dating Kevin, who wasn't anywhere near the sex-god that Derek was, she had received her fair share of scowls, so she was practiced as pushing such things from her mind.

"Want to get a bottle of wine on the way home?" Derek asked.

Penelope leaned into him. "Aren't you... you know?"

Derek laughed at how unsubtle she was.

"You mean, on duty?" he clarified.

"Well, yeah."

"I think I can take a few hours off, once the cameras go dark."

Penelope smiled, anticipating just how good the night was going to be.

* * *

"Right, so that's the cameras off, the candles lit and if anyone calls with an emergency, you are to tell them that you are unavailable."

Derek laughed, pleased by her possessiveness. "So, are you going to feed me, or just run me ragged all night?" He didn't seem perturbed by the idea.

"Relax, Tiger, I have pizza menus!" She held up the takeout menus that they had been given.

"You know the way to a man's heart." He stepped up to her and pulled her close but Penelope was stiff and unresponsive. "What's wrong, Baby Girl?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him. He just raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "All right, fine! I don't know what to do, oaky? I know how to be your friend, and I know how to be a girlfriend, and I know how to be a friend after a breakup, but I've never gone from friend to girlfriend before. Is that what we are now, boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Do you have any idea how charming you are when you go off on one of your little rants?" he asked.

"Um, not very?"

"Adorable," he kissed the end of her nose but she still felt stiff in his arms. "Garcia, this is us. No matter what status you assign our relationship, it's still just Morgan and Garcia, hanging out."

"Just hanging out?" She sounded a little disappointed.

"For now yeah. Everything else, we play by ear."

"Playing by ear sounds good, except I'm tone deaf when it comes to subtle hints."

"Okay," he said tightening his arms around her. "How about this, no sex, at least until this case is over."

"No sex?" Now she really sounded disappointed.

"Unless you want sex?"

"I do, but I don't." She took a deep breath as she tried to order her thoughts. "I don't know what to do. I don't usually sleep with someone on the first date, I at least wait for the second but in some ways, I feel like I've been dating you for years. I'm confused." She pouted.

"Then like I say, no sex until you're no longer confused."

He actually felt her begin to relax and she wrapped her arms around him.

"So what do we do until then?" she asked coquettishly.

"I can think of a few activities that can keep us amused," he said his voice seductive and low.

"Oh yeah, like what?"

He lowered his head, his hungry gaze alternating between her luscious lips, painted a particularly enticing shade of red today, and her brown eyes, with pupil so wide with desire that they almost looked black.

She closed her eyes and he nudged her nose with his.

"Well, we could watch a movie."

Her eyes shot open. "You dirty, rotten tease!" She gave him a playful shove but he could tell that she was glad things were back to being playful.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure how to handle things either, so he was happy to wait for as long as it took for them both to feel comfortable. Besides, there were a few bases they could hit before they scored a home run, and waiting could even heighten the pleasure. It actually felt kind of exciting, not knowing all the answers; a little like being a teenager again, albeit without the same amount of fumbling and doubt.

Before she could push him away again, he leaned in for a lightening quick kiss, then ran into the living room, making her chase after him. He threw himself down on the couch, arms open wide in an invitation for her to join him. She took a moment to decide if she wanted to chastise him some more, or fall into his arms. Kicking her shoes off, she chose to steal a quick kiss of her own, then curled into him, while Derek surfed the TV channels, looking for something they both liked.

They ended up watching Speed, although they talked as much as they watched the movie. The takeout they ordered arrived about half way through the film and Penelope answered the door, turning her broach camera on before she answered.

They settled back down on the couch to eat and when they had eaten their fill, they ended up making out while the movie played on.

Despite neither being virginal, the sensation was new to both of them; on the one hand, it was new and exciting wile on the other, it was familiar and comforting, as if it was something they had been doing for years. Penelope supposed that it was the trust that existed between them, which allowed her to feel so at ease with a new experience.

She hadn't kissed Kevin until their third date, so she knew him fairly well by then, yet she had been as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof. Here however wrapped in Derek's strong embrace, she felt excited but not frightened. She wasn't worried that she might do it wrong, or not be pretty enough, or good enough for him, because she knew him so well.

With most men, she had to constantly read between the lines to try and figure out how they were feeling. Sometimes, they told outright lies. She had tried a brief spell of internet dating once and was appalled by how many men promised to call, then she never heard from them again. If she hadn't liked someone she met for coffee, she was honest about it; she thanked them for a good time but explained that she didn't think things would work out between them. For some reason, men seemed to believe that it was easier to lie, raise people's hopes, only to be slowly crushed as the days ticked by.

Not Derek though, he preferred honesty to pretense, even if it did make life more difficult in the long run. If he wanted something form her, he would ask. If he liked something, he would tell her. If he didn't like something, he would tell her that as well.

Garcia would perhaps find a prettier way to tell the truth than Derek, doing her best to soften the blow and sometimes rambling, taking longer to get to the point, but basically they were the same in that respect.

For the first time in her life, she didn't have to worry how her body was angled as she kissed a man, and whether it flattered her or not. She didn't have to worry if her wobbly bits would be a turn off. She didn't even have to worry that he would press for more than she was willing to give, because Derek wasn't the type to be hurt by a refusal to have sex. Many men took that as a personal affront, as if it was a personal slight against their manhood, rather than a preference of the woman they were dating. Then they began to tease, beg or pressure her into sex, unless they just ended the relationship. Derek didn't need sex to prove he was a man though, or to boost his ego. She knew that he would wait for as long as she needed and right now, she was thinking that she might even be ready in five minutes or so.

Just as she was about to take things to the next level, Derek pulled away. He had a kind of dreamy smile on his lips, which was just adorable.

"We should probably go to bed soon," he reminded her.

She knew he didn't mean for sex and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. They had started watching Speed at nine o'clock.

"Oh my god! You are such a time suck, Derek Morgan!" she turned back to him, unwilling to relinquish her position on his lap just yet. "You do realise that if we carry on dating, I am never going to get anything done! My MMORPGs will remain un-played, my avatars left to wither in cyberspace, I will start knitting quilts and never finish one. I just bought a mosaic kit that will most likely now, never be used."

Derek chuckled at her theatrics. "Well, if you're really good, I might give you a couple of night off a week."

Penelope bit her lower lip rather coyly as she considered that.

"You're thinking up ways to be bad, aren't you?" he asked.

"Maybe." She gave him her best 'fake innocent' look.

"Come on, Baby Girl," he said with a laugh. "We need to get some sleep."

She pouted but got up off his lap. They took it in turns to get changed in the bathroom, Garcia going first and she was already in bed when he came out. He climbed in the opposite side and reached out for her hand.

"How're you holding up?"

"I'm okay," she assured him.

"The profile didn't freak you out?"

"Sure it did, but I have you to look after me."

He could see that she was more nervous that she let on.

"You got that right. Come here."

She shuffled over and settled against him, her head resting on his shoulder as his arm went around her.

* * *

The next few days passed in a similar fashion of visits to various shops, stores, restaurants, cafés and other places that the victims visited.

On the Friday evening, she returned to the gym for her third zumba class. By this time, one of her friends had posted her contacts to her, so she could still see properly while wearing the ornamental camera glasses. With each lesson, she was feeling more and more confident and Jill greeted her warmly as she entered the workout room, which also made her feel at home. She was used to women like Jill, those who took fitness seriously, looking down on someone like her, so it was nice to be proved wrong.

As she worked out however, she began to notice that Jill was sending her some harsh looks, either as she went around the room correcting posture, or as she looked at Penlepe's reflection in the mirror. Without her contacts, she hadn't been able to see clearly enough to notice but now, she had the distinct impression that when she felt she was unnoticed, Jill was glaring at her.

Whenever she met Jill's gaze, the other woman plastered what had seemed like a genuine smile on her face, although now it looked distinctly fake, then she would shout something peppy, like 'Good job, ladies,' or 'feel the burn! You're doing great!'.

Garcia as upset but not surprised, and tried to focus on her workout. At least Jill was trying to make her feel welcome, which was more than some women might have done.

Not wanting to share the changing room with Faux-Jill, she stopped by the juice bar after her workout to see Derek.

"I need OJ and I need it now!" she said, sitting opposite him.

He smiled and passed her his glass, which he had hardly touched.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I'm just dehydrated," she said, taking a sip. She had swigged from her water bottle during the class, so she wasn't really thirsty.

"No, I mean really, what's up?"

She thought that she had done a good job of sounding upbeat but as usual, he could read her like a book. She hated profilers. "You mean, aside from the fact that sneakers make me look like I have cankles?"

"What's a cankle?" he frowned.

"Ankles that are as thick as your calves," she explained. She wouldn't have had to explain that to JJ or Alex.

"Well I have to admit, the heels are far more you."

"Far more me?" she asked. She was fishing but she knew he wouldn't disappoint. She could always rely on him for a moral boost.

"Graceful, stylish, colourful; all the things I love about you."

"You think I'm graceful?" she sounded surprised.

"I do." He smiled.

"Aww, you say the sweetest things sometimes."

"I mean every word."

"Well I'm going to go and get changed, then we can go to dinner and if you keep playing your cards right, you are going to get very lucky."

"Promises, promises," he grinned.

She leaned over the table and kissed him, then headed to the changing room.

Jill was either gone or in the shower and Penelope hurried inside a shower stall, so that she didn't run into the other woman. She took a little longer with her hair and makeup when she was done, twisting her hair up into a French pleat with a tiny beehive, adding a red rose clip and 60s makeup, with lots of liquid eyeliner above, giving herself a sexy, cat's eye look.

She changed into a shift dress that matched the rose and completed her look with red glasses and heals.

When she got to the juice bar, Jill was sitting with Derek and her heart sank, because he was smiling at whatever she was saying. She supposed that she needed to get used to women flirting with him, he was attractive after all, while she wasn't, at least not traditionally so. She couldn't really blame pretty women for chancing their arm with him.

Her spirits rose when he glanced up and noticed her; the look in his eyes was almost hungry and although he said a few more words to Jill, he hardly took his eyes off Penelope. Then he made his way over to her.

"You look good enough to eat," he said, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her.

When he let her up for air, it took her a moment to form her thoughts into coherent sentences. "Why thank you, kind Sir." She grinned at him.

"Ready to go?" He held his elbow out for her and she took it.

"Lead the way, Sir Hot Stuff."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Thanks you to everyone who commented and has guessed at the unsub. Your comments spurred me on to try and get this part polished up and out tonight. Think of it as a last hurrah of the weekend; a salve to that icky Monday, tomorrow.

Plus, all is finally revealed! Well, mostly revealed; the back-story comes in the next chapter.

Those of you who guessed the unsub correctly, win one internets. YAY!

The rest of you, well, I hope you enjoy it ;-)

**Chapter Seven**

"But we're not getting anywhere," Derek said into his phone. Penelope listened to Derek's side of the conversation, missing her tech job. Even when she was in another city to the team, she felt much more like a team member than she didn't right now.

Today marked ten days since she had come to New York and still, they had no viable leads. The only people that she saw more than once, were always in the same place. Even the young man who they had spotted twice on their street, turned out to live nearby and there was nothing suspicious in his background.

They had also run checks on every man they had identified but none jumped out as suspects, although a few did fit some parts of the profile.

Still, running all over the city, even with the divine Derek Morgan, was quickly becoming old. She also couldn't shake the thought that if she was the analyst digging up the dirt on these guys, she would have found something.

She knew that wasn't logical, and she knew that she had been looking for leads for nine days before she was asked to act as bait, but the lack of results was starting to get to her and she was even questioning her own work.

As well as putting in an hour or two on the computers each afternoon, when they visited HQ, she also tried to put in a few hours when they got home, which had the added benefit of freeing Derek up so that he could go for a run. She felt a little bad that he was lumbered with being her protector and that she was keeping him from his regular routines but by staying in the apartment for two hours (and promising faithfully not to open the door to anyone) Derek was free to do what he wanted for a little while.

Her laptop in the apartment was hooked into the FBI computers, so although it wasn't anywhere near as good as her setup at Quantico, it was enough to work with.

"Okay, we'll be there in thirty."

She turned away from the laptop as he hung up the phone.

"Hotch wants us downtown for a meeting," he explained.

"I'm kind of in the middle of a search," she explained.

He hesitated for a moment. "You can continue that while we meet, can't you?"

"I suppose, but if i stay here, i promise not to answer the door."

Derek hesitated. "We've been here ten days, Penelope, I'd really rather notleave you alone right now, she any reason."

She didnt want to cause him any more worries, so she smiled. "No problemo, daddy-o."

He smiled. "I'll get your coat."

* * *

"We're getting nowhere fast," Hotch said, his exasperation was mirrored by the rest of the team.

They were all seated around the conference table, save for Penelope, who was seated at the bank computers, digging up background information on the various men she had encountered in New York.

"We're missing something," Rossi added, his gaze focused on the victim's photographs, where they were taped to the whiteboard.

"Okay, well we've been over the profile a dozen times, so let's go over the victimology again," Blake suggested. "Maybe we'll find something we missed."

"All right," Hotch went to the board, where the victim's pictures were displayed. "The first victim was Kelly Anderson, 27 years old and she worked as a supervisor at OrkTech. She-"

They went through each victim, one by one, with Reid reciting most of the data from memory. At the same time, Penelope went through her programs, to see if they had found anything new about each victim.

"So, where does that leave us?" Hotch asked once they were finished.

"Guys, what if we're looking at this wrong," Reid suggested, his brow furrowed, as it often was when he was thinking. Clearly he hadn't completely ordered his thoughts yet. "What if the murder isn't getting turned on by the killings? There is no sexual assault, after all."

"But they're starved, beaten and left naked. The unsub is getting off on these killings," Rossi countered.

"I know that's what we assumed, but what if these women aren't his 'type', what if these are mission-oriented murders?"

"So the unsub is wiping out overweight women?" Rossi sounded more than a little sceptical.

"If there's one thing that watching Garcia for the past week has taught me, it's that I had no idea how much disgust is aimed at the overweight." Reid turned to Garcia. "No offence."

She turned away from her computers long enough to say, "None taken, sweetie."

"I've been doing some reading online," Reid continued, "and the amount of prejudice overweight people, especially women, receive is overwhelming; I don't think it's unreasonable to make the leap, that someone out there could hate large women enough to kill them."

Rossi steepled his fingers as he considered Reid's points. "Assuming that you're right, what kinds of people might target them?"

"From what I read online, especially from various comments left on blogs about this, the reasons given to excuse the abuse vary, although one common excuse seems to use the costs of H.M.O.s."

"You say 'excuse' but don't they have a point, though?" Alex asked.

"Actually, probably not. Back in 2003, in the region of Flanders, Belgium, they studied seventy two of the eighty two local sports federations, and discovered that their sports related injuries cost the local health care system over fifteen million euros, and the indirect costs were estimated to be over one hundred and ten million euros. If you factor in all the people who do sports or exercise but aren't members of a sporting federation, the costs could easily be double or triple that. If costs really are a basis for discrimination, then people who play sports or engage in any high risk activities, should be discriminated against too."

"You said 'one type'," Hotch interrupted, eager to get the conversation back on course. "What are the other types?"

"The second type are mainly women, usually those who work hard to stay slim and think that if they can do it, everyone should be able to."

"Surely if our victims had faced that kind of prejudice, they would have said something," Rossi argued. "These women had friends, spouses, even blogs, and no one has said anything about it."

"I re-interviewed the families," Blake added, "and they didn't say anything like that. In fact, the women were all doing well, described as happy with their lives, successful in their careers and mostly settled."

"The types of abuse that I've observed and been reading about, vary greatly, from disgusted looks, to passive aggressive comments, outright name calling, and even just well intentioned meddling, such as suggesting alternative items off a menu or lower calorie items while shopping."

"Well, assuming that Reid is right and they were facing this kind of bullying, why wouldn't they tell their loved ones about it?" Rossi asked.

The question went unanswered and as silence reigned for a few moments as everyone thought about the question.

"Shame." Garcia finally spoke up, although her tone was far from her usual perky voice.

"Shame?" Hotch asked, turning to her.

Penelope nodded.

"I don't understand."

Penelope looked to Reid. "You were bullied and teased as a kid, right?"

"Almost every day."

"Because you were a genius?"

"Mostly, why?" he asked.

"I'll get to that. What kinds of things did people say when you told them you'd been bullied?"

"Most were sympathetic. They told me that kids were horrible and liked to pick on the weak, that they were jealous, that I should be the bigger person and turn the other cheek, and that things would get better as I grew up."

"And what about you, Derek." She turned to him, where he sat beside her. "You must have experienced racism."

"What black kid doesn't? In my case, because I had a white mom, even the black kids picked on me."

"And what did people tell you to do about it?"

"Similar things to Reid, I guess, except I was also advised to bulk up and fight back."

Penelope nodded and turned her gaze to the whiteboard, so she didn't have to look anyone in the eye.

"When I was in high school, the cheerleaders seemed to make it their mission in life to make me miserable. A classmate found me crying one lunch time and asked what was wrong, so I told her. It wasn't anything terrible, just the culmination of weeks of insults and oinking noises as I passed them in the hallways. Do you know what she told me? That maybe they had a point and I could stand to lose a few pounds; and she was far from the only person to hold that view. My teachers never chastised them and even my friends suggested I go on diets, or told me how much prettier I'd be if I dropped a few pounds. We fat girls soon learn that there's no sympathy for our plight out there."

"Is it really that bad?" Alex asked.

"It is. Even those who don't mean to be hurtful, can be." She could see that they didn't really understand what she was trying to say. "You know when people find out that Reid's mother has schizophrenia? And they get this sort of frightened look in their eyes, like all mentally ill people are dangerous and schizophrenics especially, are either psychos or split personality?"

"Split personality-" Reid began to correct her.

"I know, sweetie," she assured him quickly. "The point is, that most people get their impression of mental illness, from things like TV, which is often mis-informed, and the news, which is usually sensationalist and ends up demonising things like mental illness. Programs like Fat Club and all these magazines promising to help you lose 8 pounds in a week, they all give the impression that losing weight is easy, and that anyone can be slim if they just put enough effort in."

She could see in a few people's eyes, that they too believed it was easy.

"People are given the impression that weight is a black and white issue, just a case of calories in verses calories expended and if you can't manage your weight, you must be lazy, unhealthy and have zero willpower. Then there's the fact that we aren't represented well in the media; we're never the heroine, we don't get the job of news anchor, we're never the romantic lead, we're lucky to be the lead actresses' fat friend, or the butt of the jokes. Laughing at anyone who is even a little bit overweight is not only allowed, but positively encouraged as cheap and easy humour. Now you've got so-called health campaigns that try to shame fat kids into losing weight, literally trying to bully them from a distance and encouraging other kids to bully them. It makes them feel bad, which makes them eat more, then they get picked on more by other kids (for their own good, of course) which makes them feel even worse…"

Realising that she was verging on a rant, she took a deep breath before continuing. Most of her friends looked surprised, never having heard her speak about weight before, but most fat people quickly realised that speaking up about these issues, just made you a bigger target. She had learned early on to keep her opinions to herself, or hide behind an anonymous username on the web when she really had to speak out.

"Anyway, not only from my own limited experience, but also from the counselling that I do with victims and survivors, I can tell you that there is _so_ much more it than that. The reasons people overeat are many and varied, but an awful lot of it seems to be emotional, or as a coping mechanism." She wasn't about to confess that she felt the reasons for her own weight gain, were due to the degrading and sometimes threatening sexual harassment in her early teen years. She hadn't even told her parents about those, or her brothers.

"That's true actually," Reid added. "Survivors of sexual assault have been shown to have a much higher tendency to gain weight, even if they were attacked late in life and were of a normal or healthy weight previously."

Penelope nodded sadly. He was correct but it wasn't just assault survivors, food seemed to serve as a comfort for many types of trauma, from the loss of a loved one, to the loss of a job, and even low self-esteem and depression. Not to mention other causes for weight gain, such as pregnancy, hormonal changes, ageing, or just liking food too much.

"I was lucky really, my parents and my step-brothers never minded my weight and they never tried to change me, but some of you know my friend, Sylvia? Her mother put her on a diet when she was seven years old. I've seen pictures of her as a kid and she did _not_ need to lose weight. Now she's bigger than I am."

"Seven years old?" Reid sounded shocked. "Do they have any idea how unhealthy that is? Children need added weight so that when they get a growth-"

"Reid," Hotch cut his scientific rant off, knowing that it was tangential their case.

Rossi turned to Penelope. "Overall, would you say that there is more hostility towards the overweight from men or women?"

"Women. Men just tend to ignore women that they don't find attractive, women are usually the ones who make catty remarks."

"What are you thinking?" Hotch asked, Rossi.

"I'm wondering if Reid might be right and this is a mission-oriented killer and if so, might it be a woman that we're looking for?"

They began to talk the theory through so Derek leaned over to Penelope.

"You okay, Baby Doll?"

She reached out for his hand and squeezed it. "I'm fine, but thank you."

She still wouldn't look him in the eye however, so he got up.

"Come on," he said, and she allowed him to lead her out of the room and into the interrogation room next door. He closed the door behind them and pulled her into his arms once they were alone. She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

"Are you really okay?" he asked again.

"Some of this stuff's not easy," she admitted. "But thank you."

"For what?"

She tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes.

"You've never looked through me, like I wasn't there."

He chuckled. "Are you kidding me? You were the hottest woman on our floor, hands down. Still are, in fact." He smiled. "And I'm sorry I didn't notice what was going on when we're out together."

She looked confused. "Morgan, I don't need you to rescue me."

"I know but the truth is, I did notice, I just assumed that the looks we got were because you were with me."

"Well, much as it pains me to say it, that isn't an unreasonable assumption, even in the twenty first century. Unfortunately, I got almost the same amount of looks and comments when I was out with Kevin."

"You know that you can talk to me about this stuff, right? I am never going to turn around and suggest you lose a few pounds."

"Oh, baby, she reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Thank you so much for the offer but these days, most of it is like water off duck's back. I notice the looks and the comments but I try not to pay them much mind."

"Really?"

"Really. My confidence might take a knock now and again but I like who I am, and I like how I look."

Suddenly he frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I just realised that these victims remind me a lot of you in that way."

"How so?"

"They don't seem to have let their weight become an issue in their lives. They were all described as confident, had good careers, some even went to the gym."

"Hey, you can be big and healthy, you know."

"I know, but you weren't exactly thrilled at the idea of going someplace that was filled with fitness freaks, were you?"

She shrugged. He had a point; as okay as she was with her size, she was still uncomfortable around those she thought were more likely to be prejudiced against her, and gyms consisted of mostly thin or slim people. Some of the victims in this case had definitely been braver than her in that respect; she would rather have have bought a home gym, than work out in public.

"What if it's that confidence that attracts the unsub?" he wondered. "If this _is_ a mission-oriented killer, there can be no bigger affront than someone who is not only something you hate, but also happy."

"That's a good point."

"Let's tell the others." He took her hand but as he moved away, she stayed where she was. "Penelope?"

"I think you should tell them, alone."

"Why?"

"Because weight has been the elephant in the room since this case began. I don't want people holding back because they're afraid I might offend me and more importantly, I don't want to be offended by anything someone might say in the heat of the moment."

"Penelope-"

"No, Derek. I _know_ you _all_ love me, and I don't want to overhear anything that might make me question that."

"Won't not knowing what we say be even worse?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

"Then what does it matter what might be said?"

"Because words have power. Please try to understand, Derek, that sometimes, for people like me, ignorance is bliss."

"And what if we need your insight?"

"I'm not a profiler! Even if it is socially acceptable, this unsub's hatred is just as irrational as any other kind of prejudice. You've experienced racism, JJ and Alex will know what sexism feels like-"

"But you are the only one who is uniquely experienced to offer insight into… whatever this hatred is called."

"Fatphobia. All right, fine, but if I end up hating one of them, I'm blaming you." She tried to tease but it sounded hollow.

Derek understood her fear, he only had to imagine overhearing one of them utter a racial epithet to know how hurt he would be. Unlike racism however, he and the rest of his team didn't really understand what was and wasn't offense to a larger woman. Still, he had confidence that his team were tactful enough not to insult Penelope, however unwittingly.

As they opened the door into the conference room, the team was clearly refining the profile.

"And she would likely be someone who works hard to stay in shape, denying herself the small treats that a normal woman would, and she'll exercise more than just regularly, perhaps even obsessively." Alex smiled at them she finished her contribution.

A quick look at the whiteboard showed bullet points for the new profile.

Derek presented his theory, that the unsub was drawn to attack these victims because of their evident happiness.

"That's a good point," Hotch said. "All the women were described as happy and confident, and all were in relationships, most of them long term. It's also probably likely that our unsub isn't happy and although the outside is as perfect as she can make it, she's still been unlucky in love."

"Or a recent breakup could have been the stressor," Rossi added.

Spencer added '_Poss single/recent breakup?_' to the whiteboard profile.

"I'll get started isolating female faces on the footage," Penelope said, subtly distancing herself from the discussion, even although she was still in the same room.

Most of the people Penelope had seen, she didn't have a name and for those she had met, mostly just a first name. There were a few people that it would be easy to find information on, such as those who had been working. Business websites often listed employee names and for those that didn't, it wouldn't be hard for her to hack their IRS records and find a list of employees.

None of those people would be suspects yet, unless she had captured their image in more than one place, but she certainly couldn't recall having met a woman in two different locations. It couldn't hurt to get ahead of the game and set her programs running, to dig up information on the few names that she did have or could easily find.

The first image she captured was Lindsay, from the sports shop. She was a good candidate, Penelope thought, and once she had a surname, she began a background check running, before moving onto the next female face on the footage.

"So," Hotch turned to Morgan once they had finished. "Have you met anyone who fits this profile?"

Morgan thought back. "There's one woman, maybe."

Despite herself, Penelope couldn't help but keep one ear on the conversation.

"It didn't occur to me before because we were looking for a male unsub, but the trainer from Penelope's gym is a little too friendly."

"With Penelope?" Hotch asked, looking at Penelope but speaking to Morgan. He could tell that Garcia didn't want to be a part of this conversation if she could help it.

"No, she's friendly with Garcia but when she isn't around, she flirts with me. Nothing too overt but considering that she knew we were married, inappropriate. Plus, I've run into her when jogging in the park a couple of times. Penelope wasn't with me and it's not like that isn't a popular running destination, so I didn't think too much of it."

Penelope was seething. "Actually, she wasn't that friendly to me really. Once I got my contact lenses, I could see her giving me dirty looks during the workouts. I realised she was flirting with Derek but let's face it, that's isn't unusual. Now I realise that she's actually a hypocritical, two-faced little bitch!" She glanced over at Hotchner. "Sorry, Sir."

"Do we have a name?" Hotch asked her.

The loudness of her typing was an indication of how angry she was.

"Her first name is Jill, the surname, I'm… working… on.. now… Sir… Jill Warner. I'll have her background information in few."

"Good work."


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Sorry this took a while to get out, I was away for the weekend, pretending to be a Jane Austen heroine!

I know from your comments that the last chapter hit a nerve with a lot of people. Me too. I don't want to preach or anything but there are a few very interesting facts about overweight people and BMI that I think should be brought to more peoples attention (and I couldn't shoe-horn them into the fic) ;-)

1) 1908, life insurance companies introduced the first height/weight only chart (what we now call the BMI scale). Weight gain with age is natural but this new chart deemed an increase in weight after age 25 unhealthy (despite there being absolutely no research to support it) enabling them to charge higher premiums to overweight women.

2) BMI is acknowledged as being a very poor overall indicator of health by many health care professionals (such as Dr. David Haslam, clinical director of Britain's National Obesity Forum).

3) On June 17, 1998, without any justifiable research to back it up, the National Institute for Health dropped the BMI perimeters by 10lbs. Overnight, the average American woman went from being classified as a healthy weight, to overweight. No wonder obesity rated skyrocketed. At the same time, they also consolidated the men and women's tables, despite the fact that women need much more body fat than men in order for their bodies to function properly.

4) Since the 1970s, a variety of studies from different health care institutes from all over the world, have shown shown that people in the overweight category on the BMI chart actually have a 10% less chance of dying from all causes, than people in the normal/healthy category! Or in other words, people in the healthy category are 10% _more likely to die_, than people in the overweight category. Hardly the definition of healthy, is it?

5) Inactivity is far more dangerous than being overweight, and activity rates in general are a far better indicator of overall health than BMI. The fat person who dances, goes to the gym or walks their dog every day, is most likely far healthier than the thin person who works a desk job and doesn't exercise.

If you'd like to know more, start by googling "Defining Health at Women's Expense" for Beauty Redefined's article on the history of BMI. It's one of the most comprehensive articles on the history and efficacy of the BMI scale, and one I would recommend to anyone looking for a good jumping off point into these issues.

And please don't start hating thin women. Don't like those pictures on facebook saying "I prefer these (plump) women to these (skinny) women". There is no one ideal weight and if women _are_ underweight or have an eating disorder, they deserve compassion, not scorn. The fact that eating disorders have sky-rocketed along with obesity rates, should tell us that both fat and thin women have been negatively affected by our societies messed up beauty ideals. Tell your dieting/exercising friend she looks really fit or happy today, not that she looks good or is healthy just because she lost weight.

The next time you are tempted to judge another person based on their weight, or the next time the numbers on your scale depress you, or your doctor dresses you down for being overweight, please remember these facts.

Weight is just one indicator of health, and not a very good one at that. Plus, you are so much more than just a number on a scale or a box on a BMI chart. Your body, no matter it's size, is AMAZING! It carries out millions of actions every day to enable us to live in this world, to enjoy everything it has to offer, to say nothing of what you, your mind and your body can contribute to this world. You don't need to be the next Einstein or Ghandi to make a massive difference to this world, you just need to be kind to those around you.

Okay, lecture over. We're nearly done now, just one more chapter to go. Enjoy.

**Chapter Eight**

Penelope began to read Jill's information from her computer screens.

"All right, she is thirty six years old, born in Seattle, the only child of Sarah and Matthew Warner. Her mother is a catalogue model and her father was a fashion photographer," Garcia read off the background information as succinctly as she could, while looking between multiple searches. "She's attended St. Mary's high school and…" her computer beeped. "Oh my God, she was a fat kid!"

The others turned to the presentation screen, where Jill's image from her highschool yearbook appeared. Jill was overweight in the picture but far from obese.

"Having two image conscious parents, it couldn't have been easy for an overweight kid," JJ said.

"That's when she was 15," Penelope continued, then pulled up the next years photograph, which was similar but by the time she was 17, she had lost all of her excess weight.

"Look at her personal quote," Rossi said, so Garcia made it bigger and easier to read.

"_'Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels'_," Reid recited. "Not actually a very original quote but a common sentiment among eating disorder support groups."

"You mean recovery groups?" Hotch asked him.

"No, these are people who actually support each other in their desire for unhealthy weigh loss. It's commonly called thinspiration or thinspo, although there are more recent and sometimes healthier off shoots along similar lines, such as fitspiration, but they too can still be taken to unhealthy extremes."

"Looks like the rest of her life was dedicated to staying fit," Garcia said. "In college she majored in fitness and minored in nutrition, and she's worked as a personal trainer and fitness instructor ever since."

"So she loses the weight and grows to hate what she once was," Rossi commented.

"Still, it's a big step from hating something to killing," Blake said.

"Does she have a criminal record?" Hotch asked.

"Checking now, Sir. It looks like she moved to New York six years ago with her boyfriend, has worked for nine different gyms in New York since then…"

"That's a lot of jobs," Hotch noted.

"Could mean that she's antisocial, has trouble fitting in," Blake suggested.

"Or it could be a sign of the times," Reid added.

"Could the loss of a job be her stressor?" Derek asked.

"Could be but for someone who changed jobs so frequently, I doubt-" Rossi said.

"Oh, oh!" Garcia interrupted. "She had four charges for assault! Most seem minor, all in her early 20s, mostly in nightclubs or bars, and the fights were stopped by bouncers before they could get too serious…"

"Does it say what started the fights?" Hotch asked.

"No really, but the other parties certainly fit." Garcia displayed eight mug shots, four of Jill, and four of the women she had fought with. All the women she had fought with were overweight.

"So she's harboured a grudge for a while then?" Alex surmised.

"Yeah, dating back to high school; she was suspended in her final year for bullying another class mate. It doesn't doesnt go into detail about what she did to her victim, but she was bullying one Clara Wright…" she began looking through the digital yearbook, looking for the W surnames. "A-ha!"

Clara's picture came up on the big screen, and she was more than just a big girl.

"High school must have been hell for a kid like her," JJ sympathised.

"You'd think that Jill might have some sympathy." Garcia sounded snippy. "Instead she seemed to turn into this girl's life into a walking nightmare."

"It's still a big leap from fights and bullying to murder." Rossi added.

"There must be some kind of stressor that we're missing." Reid added.

"Your Girl Friday is doing best here," Garcia said, sounding distracted.

Derek came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "We know, mama, just keep calm."

Penelope took a deep breath. "I'm calm, I'm calm," she chanted like a mantra. "Okay, I think I might have found that stressor you were after. Her last tenancy was in joint names and the other name was Bryce Williams!"

"The first victim's fiancé." Reid completed the puzzle.

"Bingo! Give that man a cigar."

"Garcia, I don't smoke."

She smiled but didn't reply.

"How long ago did they break up?" Derek asked.

"I can't say for sure but his name came off the utilities eleven months ago, so sometime around then."

"So her boyfriend leaves her for a larger woman and she kills her?" Blake sounded sceptical.

"Why wait all that time before killing her?" JJ asked.

"Stalking her perhaps?" Reid suggested "Learning her routines?"

"There might be something to that," Garcia added. "Looking through their financials, both Bryce and Kelly were members of a different gym a year ago, Santiago's, which incidentally, is the same gym where Kelly worked, until she got fired. They cancelled their memberships there a year ago and moved to Sam's Gym and then a month later, Jill got a part time job there."

"I don't think that's a coincidence," Derek said, taking his phone out and moving to a quiet corner.

"No," Hotch agreed. "Were there any police reports or restraining orders filed?"

"Checking now but… nothing."

"I just spoke with the manager at the gym," Derek said as he hung up the phone. "According to him, things were a little strained between the three at first but they tried to make it work, for the baby's sake."

"But Kelly was only two months pregnant when she died," Reid reminded them.

"Not Kelly, Jill," Derek corrected. "The manager isn't sure of the details but Jill was pregnant with Bryce's baby. She was admitted to hospital and when she came back to work, no longer pregnant but she wouldn't talk about it."

"Did she abort or miscarry?" Rossi wondered.

"Garcia, find out what happened." Hotchner instructed.

"Aye aye, sir." She typed furiously until there was a beep and Garcia changed screens. "She was admitted to the ER with bleeding and according to her admittance forms, she was four months pregnant and although she wasn't underweight, she had a dangerously low body fat ratio, just five percent. It'll take me a few moments to hack into her complete records."

"While men need 3 percent minimum body fat to maintain health, women need at least 13 percent and even the fittest of female athletes usually has body fat in the 14 to 20 percent range," Reid explained. "Below 17 percent, menstruation becomes irregular and may stop all together and in some cases, even cause permanent infertility. As well as that, people with too little body fat become more susceptible to illness and it can compromise the health of bones, especially in woman, leading to osteoporosis and joint problems in later life."

"So after the break-up, she worked out so obsessively that she lost her baby," Blake said with sympathy.

"According to her records, she suffered depression after she lost the baby and was warned that she may not be able to conceive again. They convinced her to join a disordered eating support hroup to try and help her gain weight and overcome her exercise compulsion. Apparently she was making a little progress, cutting back on the amount of time she exercised and adding three hundred calories to her daily intake."

"Did her ex know about the baby?" Hotch asked.

"According to the therapy notes, he did and they were planning on sharing custody. She expressed a lot of hostility for his new girlfriend during the group therapy and said that she couldn't understand why Brent would one someone like Kelly who was, and I quote, 'disgusting', when he could have Jill. Then she stopped attending group after only five sessions and despite repeated attempts to contact her, they never heard from her again."

"Losing the baby was probably her stressor, then when she discovered that Kelly was pregnant, that pushed her over the edge." Rossi concluded.

Black nodded. "In her mind, Kelly was everything that she had hated about herself, yet she had everything that Jill wanted."

"She may even have viewed Kelly as trying to take over her life, first her boyfriend, then her baby," Reid surmised.

"We still can't find out how the other women met her though," Garcia added.

"It might be that these women didn't know her," Alex suggested. "It could be that their partners are the common denominator. Perhaps seeing these men happy with a larger women, was more than she could stand."

"We'll re-interview the partners and friends but we don't have time to look into that now," Hotch stopped that line of thought. "We have just days left before she kidnaps someone else, if she hasn't already, so our first priority has to be getting her in custody. We can build our case after that."

"Baby Girl, have you got an address for us?"

"Sending it to your tablets as we speak."

"Let's go," Hotch stood up.

They made their way out of the room but Derek lingered behind.

"You okay?"

Penelope turned away from her computer and nodded. "I'm fine. Go get her before she takes someone else."

"You'll stay here?"

"Cross my heart."

He stole a kiss then jogged to catch the others up.

Just in case Jill wasn't at home (if was the middle of the afternoon after all) Penelope searched for alternate locations. A call to the gym confirmed that she wasn't working and when the team entered her apartment, she wasn't there either.

As expected, their first call was to her.

"She's not home, Baby Girl, have you got anything else for us?"

"I've hacked the phone network but her cell is turned off. I'll know as soon as she turns it back on but until then, I can't locate her."

"How about if I text her?"

"She gave you her phone number?" Garcia sounded mad.

"Don't worry, I didn't keep it, but she doesn't know that."

"I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at her but anyway, it won't work until she turns her phone back on."

"She could be hunting her next victim," Hotch said, and Garcia belatedly realised that she was on speaker. Oh well, she had bigger things to worry about right now.

"Her phone is backed up to the cloud so I'm currently hacking the calendar to see if she has any appointments."

"We'll hold," Derek told her.

"Okay, at the moment she's supposed to be taking a step aerobics class at a St Katheryn's church hall but before you go jetting off across town, I'll call and check."

She called the public payphone in the hall and was quickly told that Jill hadn't turned up for class that day. Garcia immediately called the team back.

"No go, she's not there."

"We're going through the apartment now, maybe we'll find something here," Hotch explained.

"Okay, Sir. I've been doing some digging into husbands and partners, and already discovered that two of them jogged in central park, where she ran into Derek."

"How can you know that?" Hotch asked.

"They sometimes tweeted or posted to Facebook from there. Only one had location tracking switched on so his posts show that he was usually in Central Park in the early evening; the other didn't have tracking enabled, but posted pictures of the view on a semi regular basis."

"Sometimes you scare me," Hotch admitted, which Penelope took as a compliment.

"I'll hit you back if I discover anything else. Garcia out."

She hung up and set about finding other ways to track Jill, such as through her subway pass. She had no joy however, until one of her computers started beeping. She frowned, not understanding what that screen was searching for, until she saw that it was an alarm.

She hit Derek's number on speed dial.

"Okay, not to freak you out too much, but the silent alarm on our apartment just went off. I can't access the spy cameras remotely but I can hack into the webcam on the laptop, and am doing so as we speak."

"It's got to be her," Derek agreed. "We'll head over there now."

She hung up to focus all her attention on hacking the FBI laptop. Being a government maching, it was harder than hacking a personal computer but considering that she designed a good portion of the firewalls and other protections on FBI computers, easier than it might have been for many hackers. Once she received the feed from the laptop's camera, she hit speed-dial again.

"You're on speaker," Derek said by way of greeting. She could hear the sirens on the car, so knew that they were en route.

"It's her," Garcia confirmed without preamble.

"Can you tell how she got in?" Hotch asked.

"It looks like she came from the direction of the front door."

"Did she break it down?"

"I only have a very limited view of the living room, Sir."

"Can you tell where she is now?" Derek asked, and she heard the sirens on their vehicle turn off. They obviously didn't want Jill to know that they were coming.

"She came from the direction of the front door and after a brief snoop, has headed towards the kitchen but she's out of the camera's range now, so she could be anywhere."

"It's almost six o'clock, which is around about the time I'd run into her in the park. She's probably expecting you to be there alone."

"How would she know I'd be at home?"

"She asked about you," he admitted, although he sounded reluctant.

Penelope wasn't angry though. They hadn't been looking for a female unsub and it was normal for people to be chatty and make small talk, especially if they had already met a few times.

"Okay, Princess, we're here. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, and Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful?"

"I will."

He hung up and Penelope stared, fixated at the webcam view of the apartment.

* * *

Morgan waited while Reid and Hotch made their way around the back of the building and when they confirmed that they were in place, he and JJ climbed the steps to the front door. The door appeared untouched so she had either picked the lock or entered through the bedroom window from fire escape.

He drew his weapon, counted to three, then kicked the door in.

"FBI! Show yourself, Warner, I know you're in here!"

He and JJ methodically went through the living room, checking behind furniture and in large cupboards.

"Clear!" "Clear," He heard Reid and Hotch call from the bedroom, meaning that she wasn't in there or the en suite bath.

"Clear," he called when he had finished his side of the room. JJ said the same just a moment later and they headed for the kitchen. Reid was covering Hotch, who was about to open the hall cupboard.

He and JJ rounded the kitchen counter but before he could even register movement, someone had thrown themselves at him, putting him off balance so they both fell to the floor, his gun being knocked from his grip.

JJ called for Jill to stop but she couldn't shoot in case she hit Morgan by mistake. Jill lay atop Derek, apparently without a weapon but striking him with her fists.

Still, Jill may be fit but so was Morgan and more importantly, he was a black belt in judo, as well as being trained in combat by the FBI. He could easily overpower her. He didn't want to hurt her however, so he simply countered her blows as he tried to reasons with her.

"It's over, Jill."

"No! NO!" she punctuated each word with a punch but he blocked them.

Morgan could see that Reid, Hotch and JJ had them surrounded, all three aiming their guns at them.

"It's over," Hotch said and somehow, reality penetrated her rage and her punches became feeble as she broke down crying.

All she said, over and over, was 'no'.

Once she as cuffed and pulled off him, Derek could see that she had brought her own gun, which was still tucked into her wasteband, although she hadn't even tried to use it on him.

"Hello? Hello! Is anyone there? Hello!"

Morgan looked around, wondering when Garcia had got there. He made his way into the living room, where her face now filled the laptop screen.

"Oh, you're alive; thank god! Is everyone else okay?"

"Everyone's fine, Baby Girl; Jill is in custody."

A sobbing Jill was led out of the apartment and he saw Penelope's face fall as she saw.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"I will be, once you're back here and I can see for myself that she didn't hurt you."

"Hotch and Reid are bringing her in, the rest of us are staying in the field to see if we can find out where she kept the victims."

"Okay, my lovely, I'll see you soon."

The screen went dark but he blew a kiss at the screen anyway, just in case she still had the camera switched on.

"So," JJ said once they were alone, waiting for the crime scene techs to arrive. "You and Garcia, huh. How long has that been going on?"

He expected them to notice, so he wasn't surprised by the question. "It's still very new."

JJ smiled. "I'm glad, you two are good for each other."

Morgan smiled, agreeing with her statement, but he was glad that she didn't press for more information. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, just that working in such close quarters, it was sometimes hard to have a personal life and as much as he loved the team, there were parts of his life that he needed to keep private, or at least to himself.

He couldn't deny however, that it was nice to know that they approved.

* * *

By the time he made it back to HQ, it was late.

A through search of Jill's apartment had revealed receipts for a storage container, paid for with cash, as well as trophies from each victim, mostly jewellery, including two wedding rings.

In the meantime, Garcia had discovered frequent calls from Jill to the bereaved partners and after talking to them, Alex had discovered that Jill had been calling to offer them her sympathies and a shoulder to cry on. All the men had some kind of contact with her before their partners were kidnapped and said that she had flirted with them. Some even felt that afterwards, she had been offering them more than just a shoulder. In their grief however, had done anything more than accept sympathy.

Alex had reported that they were cut up enough to realise that they had accepted sympathy from their loved one's killer, Derek didn't even want to imagine how awful they would have felt if they had done anything more.

He reported to Hotch once back at HQ, then went in search of Penelope. He found her in the observation room, watching Jill. No one was questioning her at the moment and sitting there, all alone, she looked rather pathetic.

"Hey, Baby Girl, how are you doin'?"

Penelope turned to him briefly and he could see the pain on her quickly turned back to Jill, so he came and stood beside her.

"Her victims, they were all like me. There but for the grace of god…" she said. "I should hate her, but I can't."

He put a hand on her shoulder.

"All she does when questioned is spout disgust and venom. She even admitted to making moves on the boyfriends and husbands, which is all kinds of icky, but it's almost like she was trying to take over these women's lives, women that she's supposed to find repulsive. She's so full of hate but I think what she hates the most, is herself. I can understand why she bought into the myth than slim equals happy, and why she's so bitter that it isn't true but still..."

"She wasn't born hating, Penelope, someone taught her that."

"But why?"

Derek didn't have any answers, so he just listened.

"I get that she did really evil things, and that she isn't even sorry, but all I feel is this overwhelming grief, because it's all so senseless. Why couldn't her parents just have loved her for who she was, rather than what she looked like? They caused her so much pain and because of that pain, she's causes all this new pain to so many people… Where does it end, Derek?"

He put his arms around her and held her as she began to cry. "I don't know, baby. I wish I had answers for you."

"Why can't I hate her?"

That one he could answer. "Because hate is not a part of who you are, and that's a good thing."

"It doesn't feel like a good thing right now, it feels like I'm letting her off."

Derek pulled away and cupped her cheek.

"Penelope, you are one of the few people I know who is genuinely happy. Despite everything that life has thrown at you, not to mention all the pain and misery we see as part of our jobs, you choose to be happy."

"It's not a choice, Derek,

"No? Then why, when you need two wardrobes to house all your clothes, do you only own two black outfits? Why do people stop by your office when they're having a bad day, just to drink in the colours? Why do you have an endless supply of inappropriate remarks for anyone who calls? And why does every single pen and pencil you own, have a toy or feathers or something happy on the end?"

"Not every pen," she argued.

"Penelope." He gave her a stern look.

"It's a coping mechanism, Derek, not a choice."

"Your coping mechanism sounds very much like a choice to me. You choose to surround yourself with happy things and more than that, you choose to share what you have, even to the point of being borderline insubordinate, just to make other people smile too."

"Borderline?" she teased.

"True," he smiled. "Sometimes you're so far over the line, you can't even see it any more."

She hugged him again. "Thank you," she said, although it was muffled by the fact that she was taking into his chest.

"For what?"

"Being you, being there for me, having the hottest body in the FBI; you choose."

Derek chuckled. "Come on, Princess, come away. Watching her isnt going to change anything."

"I know, but-"

"But nothing. Are you hungry?" he asked; it had been a long day for all of them.

"You going to buy me dinner?"

"Absolutely," he said, draping her arm over shoulder as he led her away. "Five star fair at the FBI canteen."

"You old romantic, you."

"Nothing but the best for my Baby Girl," he teased.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Our journey is at an end, with a nice lil lemon to boot! Thanks to everyone who commented, I hope you like the final chapter.

**Chapter Nine**

Since the apartment in New York was now a crime scene, Derek and Penelope couldn't stay there for the night, but JJ had thought to book them rooms in the hotel everyone else was staying at. Not wanting to be presumptuous, she had booked them two rooms and had given both key cards to Derek.

It was just after midnight when they got there and the whole team was exhausted. They had done good work today but it had taken its toll on them all. They could have flown home that night but they were all too tired to face it.

"We'll meet in the lobby at ten hundred," Hotch said as they entered the hotel and got on the elevator. As it stopped on their floor, he added, "Good work today."

They all nodded their understanding and headed to their rooms.

Derek and Penelope went into the first room they came to. An officer had packed their things up for them and as they sorted through their hastily packed possessions, they didn't bother with time-sharing the bathroom to change. Garcia didn't even take her makeup off, although she had already cried a fair amount of it off earlier.

She climbed into bed beside Derek and they lay facing each other.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"No, but I will be."

He gave her a tired smile and reached out to take her hand.

"Sleep tight, Princess."

"G'night, Hot Stuff."

* * *

The team arrived back in Quantico on Thursday afternoon and Hotch gave them the rest of the day off; tomorrow would be soon enough for their reports.

Penelope was looking forward to long, hot bath and sleeping in her own bed again. Derek was used to travelling and could sleep anywhere, but he was looking forward to not living out of a suitcase for a few days, at least.

"You feel like pizza and a movie tonight?" he asked Penelope as they headed towards their cars in the FBI parking lot.

"Thanks but I kinda want to be alone for a little while."

"You sure?"

"I am, it's just been an emotional few days and I think I could do with some time by myself to unwind. Do you mind?"

"Of course I don't mind," he assured her. "As long as you're okay?"

They paused beside her car.

"I am," she assured him.

"All right; give me a call if you change your mind."

He paused to make sure none of the others were around, then leaned down and kissed her tenderly. His warm smile as he pulled away, left her breathless for a moment.

* * *

Penelope unpacked, dividing her clothes into 'clean', 'wash' and 'dry clean' piles, then she ran herself a bubble bath, lit half a dozen small scented candles that were scattered around her bathroom, put some Michael Buble on, then she turned off the bathroom light so it was lit only with ambient light and the candles, then she stepped into the almost-too-hot water. She released a long sigh of pleasure as she adjusted to the temperature.

This case had been hard on her, perhaps harder than any other, well, except perhaps for the time she had been shot but that wasn't an official BAU case anyway. And maybe the time Derek had driven through New York with a bomb in his ambulance had been worse. Then there was the time Spencer had been kidnapped and tortured. And the case where Elle got shot was definitely worse. And how could she forget what had happened to poor Erin Strauss?

She continued to think about worse cases, the ones where they didn't stop the unsub in time, the ones where the team were hurt, the ones where catching the unsub just didn't seem like enough, given the destruction that they had already wrought.

Her mood began to improve and she changed tactics, thinking about all the things that she had to be grateful for, from the basics such as food and shelter, to her talent for computers, as well as a job she loved, at least most of the time, and that was still important even on the days when she didn't enjoy it.

Plus, her team was like her family (how many could say that about their workmates?) and now she had Derek not only as her best friend, but her man.

She was truly blessed and it didn't matter if some things in her life weren't perfect, or of some things about her weren't perfect (by whose definition of perfection, anyway?). She got out of the bath and quickly dried off, then pulled a robe on before grabbing her phone.

"You okay?" was Derek's greeting.

She smiled at his concern. "I'm more than okay," she assured him. "I'm actually feeling a little lonely."

"Is that right?" she could hear the smile in his voice. "Want me to come over?"

"Only if it's not too much trouble," she teased.

"It's not," he assured her. "I just got back from a run, so give me half an hour to shower?"

Penelope looked back towards her bathroom as she considered something. "Well, you probably already know this, but I have a pretty big tub."

He chuckled. "Will you scrub my back?"

"If you're a very good boy. I'll even throw in a home cooked meal."

"I'll be right over," he assured her, hanging up.

Penelope pulled the plug on the cooling water, then ran to the kitchen to prepare something they could cook later, but she ran into the same problem that Derek usually did when he got back; none of the food in her fridge was in date. Well, that put a dampener in her home cooked meal idea, but take-out it would have to be.

She went back to the bathroom and ran a new tub of warm water, adding lots of feminine smelling salts and bubble bath. When it was nearly full, she turned the water off, unlocked the deadbolt on the front door, then she poured herself a glass of red wine, a glass of white for Derek and after placing them on a table in beside the bath, threw her robe off and climbed back into the tub.

Not five minutes later, he knocked on her front door.

"It's open!" she called, trying her hardest to stop grinning like a loon, since she wanted to look sexy. She wasn't entirely successful but Derek's answering grin, not to mention his haste in disrobing, showed that he didn't seem to mind.

Rather than averting he gaze, she watched him undress, enjoying the show; she planned on getting far better acquainted with his person tonight, so being coy seemed slightly ridiculous.

He climbed into the tub at the opposite end and she picked up her glass of wine and handed him his.

"To us," she said as they clinked glasses.

"To us," he agreed. "Now am I to assume that you are in fact naked under these bubbles?"

"I am," she assured him.

He took her glass and put it aside, along with his own, then he pulled her against him. The tub was large enough, and the water made her buoyant, so she easily manoeuvred onto her front so that she was lying against him, her breasts squished against his chest. He kissed her, and she could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach.

She had assumed that they would bathe, eat, then sex but this worked too and as she continued to kiss him, her hands trailing over the hard planes of his muscles, her appetite for food had gone, while her more carnal appetites were making themselves felt. She was suddenly very eager to feel him inside her. His hands wandered too, over her back, coming to rest on her ass.

Penelope worried about the planet, she recycled and knowing how precious water was, she had agonised over her choice to purchase such a large bath tub. Now, as she straddled his waist and directed his length to her entrance, she was glad of her extravagance and as she slowly sank onto his shaft, feeling it fill her, she felt that the planet could just go to hell, for tonight at least.

Anticipation for the last half an hour of what was to come, ensured that she was wet and more than ready for him and once he was seated inside her, she broke the kiss and leaned back to look down at him. He maintained eye contact as his hands moved from her ass and came to rest of her now exposed breasts, tweaking her nipples until they were as hard as pebbles.

Penelope began to ride him, relishing the friction of his member against the inner walls of her vagina. He sat there motionless, allowing her to set the pace but if the expression on his face was any indication, he was enjoying her dominance every bit as much as she was.

His right hand left her breast then and trailed down to her hot core, where he began to rub a finger over her clit, causing her to gasp and closed her eyes.

"Look at me, Baby Girl," he commanded, and she obeyed, maintaining eye contact with him once again.

He smiled and sped up his caresses of her most intimate place, feeling the muscles of her hot core contract around his length. He couldn't hold still any longer and as she sank down on his shaft, his hips rose to meet her.

Thanks to the hot bath and their exertions, both were sweating profusely but neither seemed inclined to stop. Derek thought the droplets careening down her face to be rather sexy, while she thought the rivulets running over his pecks to be one of the sexist things she had ever seen (she did like to watch him work out, after all).

As her pace increased, so did his strokes on her sensitive bud and together they built to a crescendo. Her orgasm hit first and as the muscles of her tight sheath contacted around his member, he came moments later, filling her with his seed.

Finally she collapsed against him and his arms went around her, holding her against him. Both were breathing heavily.

"I should have run a cool bath," she commented.

Derek chuckled and began to run one hand up and down the length of her back, in an intimate but not sexual caress.

"Doesn't matter what the temperature, I'll always be hot for you."

She laughed too and now that she was recovering from their exertions somewhat, sat up. Although he was softening, she could still feel him inside her.

Suddenly a frown marred his beautiful featured. "We should have talked about birth control," he said. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in the moment and-"

"Ssh," she placed a finger over his lips. "You can't get pregnant of you do it in water."

His frown asked if she was serious but since she was unable to hold in her mirth for long, he soon had his answer.

"I'm on the pill," she assured him. "And I think I know you well enough to know you don't have any hideous diseases."

"I don't," he assured her.

"I should have said something-"

Now he shushed her, but a kiss was his preferred method.

"We were both at fault," he said. "Let's leave it at that."

"Okay. So, do you want your back scrubbed now?" The relish with which she said it delighted him.

"Now how can I refuse an offer like that?"

* * *

The next morning, Penelope was perched on Alex's desk as they discussed the new tea flavours that Garcia was ordering, while Derek was chatting with Reid, when SSA Hotchner strode in.

"Morgan, Garcia, my office," he said, in his usual dour fashion.

They shared a look and reluctantly said goodbye to the people they were chatting with, then made followed Hotch up the steps to his office. He was already seated behind his desk when they got there.

"Close the door," he instructed, which Derek did, then they both say opposite him. "It's come to my attention that your relationship has become more intimate of late-" he began.

Derek cut him off. "It's not against the rules, Hotch. We aren't partners and we don't work together… most of the time."

"I realise that." Hotch frowned, wondering what made them think he was opposed to this new development. He made an effort to relax but having already had two meetings with the brass this morning, he probably wasn't in the best of moods. "The reason I asked you in here was because your relationship must be registered with Human Resources, and the both if you will be required to attend a half day sexual harassment course."

Penelope and Derek relaxed and shared a quick, relieved smile.

"I have the necessary paperwork here," Hotch handed over a file. "If you can get those forms back to me by the end of the day, I'll take care of it."

"That's it?" Penelope asked.

"That's it," Hotch conformed.

They rose to leave but as they opened the door, Hotch spoke again. "By the way..."

They turned back to him.

"Congratulations. It took you long enough."

It took them a moment to realise he was teasing but the smile on his face, something which was rare for their unit chief these days, was a joy to see.

"Thank you, Sir," Penelope said.

Derek nodded his thanks and closed the door behind them.


End file.
